Missing scene fic for, yet again, Wet Foot/Dry Foot. It's just one of the most fic-able episodes. :) Nothing recognizable is mine, etc.
4:27 AM. The red numbers glared back at Calleigh with a vengeance, reminding her just how long she'd been watching the clock. It had read 12:09 as she had first fallen into bed, exhausted. But despite her exhaustion, sleep just wouldn't come to her. She'd tossed and turned, first burying herself deep beneath the covers, then throwing them right back off again. No position was comfortable; everything was either too hot or too cold.
The first twinges of frustration began to set in around 1:30. Tomorrow would be a busy day, and Calleigh needed sleep. She needed to be at the top of her game, always. At this point, her body was still exhausted, but her mind was wide awake. Her eyes just didn't want to close. For two hours she lay awake, staring at the ceiling. 3:30 rolled around, and with a groan, Calleigh rolled her tired body over, burying her face in her pillow.
But blocking the world away from her eyes did nothing to quiet her racing mind. Her imagination was running wild; it was as though a movie were playing on the back of her eyelids, even when she scrunched her eyes as tightly as she could.
It was a movie that she couldn't turn off. And the star of that movie was currently sleeping soundly on her couch.
Eric Delko. Couch. Her Eric, on her couch. Just a few steps away, down the hallway and around the corner. He was the very reason why sleep seemed to taunt her, dancing just outside of her grasp. The thought of him sleeping so close to her, yet so far away, had her twisted into a restless mess.
The few times that she had nearly drifted off, her mind would throw a new visual at her, jolting her back into wakefulness.
What if he's just as awake as you are, his own mind plagued by thoughts of you?
What if the apartment is too warm for him, forcing him to sleep without a shirt?
What if he gets up for a glass of water, only to get sidetracked and stumble his way into your bedroom?
She couldn't sleep, not with thoughts like that racing through her head. It was torture; nothing more, nothing less.
Why had Calleigh ever agreed to this?
Was some part of her expecting something else to happen? Was she secretly hoping that maybe Eric wouldn't think she was serious about him sleeping on the couch? Was part of her endless tossing and turning related to her covert glances toward her still closed door? Was it simply because Calleigh lacked the ability to ever say no to him?
At the time, it had made sense to her. Eric couldn't go home tonight, not with the current uproar going on in his neighborhood. He was part of both sides; he was part of the Cuban community, but he was also part of Horatio's team, the team that had caused the discord in the community. It was a gamble; Eric wouldn't be safe there tonight.
But Calleigh's mind hadn't stopped there. Why hadn't Eric gone to Speedle? Or even Horatio? Why Calleigh? Why had he come straight to her? Could it be because maybe he felt the same about her as she did about him? Was it the opening he needed to get closer to her? Was it his way of making the first move, of putting the proverbial ball in her court?
What if that was exactly what he was doing, and Calleigh didn't recognize it for what it was?
Or what if it wasn't? What if this was nothing more than Eric feeling more comfortable with her than with anybody else? What if tonight meant nothing at all?
What if. Two words, six letters…a lifetime of questions. And all of it was speculation. Calleigh hated speculation; it wasn't accurate enough for her. It was just as possible to be right as it was to be wrong. And Calleigh didn't like those chances.
Even so, that didn't quench the burning need within her; the need to know the answers. She needed to know.
Calleigh couldn't remember when her feelings for Eric had crossed that ever-dangerous boundary between friendship and something more. It had hit her without warning one day; she could remember it like it was yesterday. They had been standing in the layout room, studying case photos. And Eric had been standing far too close to her; so close that she could feel his body heat, smell his intoxicating scent. Until he moved away from her, Calleigh had been unable to concentrate on the case. The photographed evidence had meant nothing to her; all she could concentrate on was Eric and the feelings he caused within her; her racing heart, her weakened knees, her dizziness…it was too much, and if Eric hadn't moved to the other side of the table when he had, Calleigh wasn't sure she would've been able to control her actions.
But he had moved away from her, and Calleigh was left berating herself. She'd felt like a schoolgirl with a crush, and that was no way for a grown woman such as herself to act. She shouldn't be getting that fluttery feeling in her stomach. And Eric shouldn't be the person to give her that feeling. Best friends just weren't supposed to make you feel like that.
Ah, but there's an exception to every rule, isn't there?
And it seemed that lately, Eric was the exception to all of Calleigh's rules. He made her feel things that she just wasn't supposed to feel. He made her imagine things that she just wasn't supposed to imagine. He made her want things that she wasn't supposed to want. It just wasn't right. Eric was supposed to be her best friend. Calleigh wasn't supposed to wonder what his hands would feel like on her body; what his lips would feel like against her lips or trailing over her skin…
With a defeated sigh, Calleigh forced her tired body upright, groaning as her back protested the movement. There was no way she would get the sleep she so desperately needed tonight, not with all these distractions racing through her head. They were affecting her sleep, her work, her every little action, so much that Calleigh didn't remember slipping out of her warm bed. She didn't remember sliding her robe over her shoulders; she didn't remember striding through her bedroom door, the door that she had purposely left ajar when she'd retired for the night.
Her mind didn't catch up to her body until she was halfway down the hallway, and at that point, it was too late. She couldn't have turned back, even if her mind had demanded it. Of course, her mind didn't demand it; all it demanded at the moment was Eric. Go to Eric…see Eric…kiss Eric…
When had he done this to her? And why couldn't Calleigh remember it?
The soft glow from the kitchen nightlight illuminated her path as she slipped quietly down the hallway, her destination entrenched firmly in her mind. She needed to be with Eric. Her slippered feet made no sound against the plush carpet, nothing to signal her quiet approach. A few more steps brought her into the darkened living room, and a few more after that brought her within feet of her number one distraction; the exception to her every rule.
He looked so peaceful there, and for a moment Calleigh couldn't help the jealousy that rose up within her. Eric was sleeping on her couch, looking as though he had not a care in the world, as though he'd easily fallen into a tranquil sleep. He was sleeping soundly on her rock hard couch, while Calleigh had spent hours tossing and turning in her soft, warm bed, eventually realizing that finding sleep was a lost cause. She was just too riled up.
All night her senses had been racing. Even with her door closed, every breath that she drew would bring her his scent. Even with her TV on, she would swear she could hear him breathing, as though he were a foot behind her. Every little sound that echoed through her apartment, Calleigh just knew that he was creeping down the hallway, on his way to her.
But that was never the case. From Eric's relaxed position on the couch, Calleigh could tell that once he'd fallen asleep, he had stayed asleep. He hadn't felt the need to be where she was. He was lost in dreamland, not plagued with thoughts of her.
The realization was a punch to the stomach. Calleigh wanted him to be just as flustered as she was. She wanted him to toss and turn all night long, forced to breathe her in with every breath; forced to see her every time he opened his eyes.
She wanted him to want her as badly as she wanted him.
And from all outward appearances, it would seem that he didn't. The prospect of sleeping just down the hall from Calleigh didn't have Eric's mind racing with all the possible ways to get into her bedroom, into her bed. It didn't have him frustrated, aroused, or even the slightest bit uncomfortable. He didn't seem to be bothered at all; it was as though he'd never even given this situation a second thought.
From Eric's current position, it seemed as though he hadn't given anything a second thought tonight. He was sprawled out on his back, one arm draped lazily across his chest, the other hanging aimlessly over the side of the couch. One leg was bent slightly at the knee. The blanket Calleigh had given him was only half covering his body; the other half of it fell over the side of the couch, pooling on the carpet below. It stopped just at his waist, and to further Calleigh's frustration, his shirt - his tight shirt - had ridden up just a bit, showing only a tiny bit of his perfect, muscular abs. Calleigh clenched her fists, feeling her fingers itching to trace over his abdomen, beneath his shirt and over his chest, feeling each and every muscle ripple beneath her fingertips. Want was no longer a strong enough word for what she was feeling; this was pure, unadulterated need.
Calleigh longed to move closer to him. She wanted desperately to slip quietly onto the couch with him, positioning herself so snugly beneath his arm, against his side. She wanted to wake him with her lips, trailing them lightly over his collarbone, along his neck, over his face, finally lowering them to his lips once their eyes met for the first time…
Softly she whimpered, quickly clasping her hand over her mouth. Eric stirred, but did not wake, and Calleigh let out the breath she'd been holding.
It was in that moment that her courage faltered. It was only a moment, but it was long enough for her doubts to surface. What if he woke up right now, right this second, and looked her straight in the eye? Would he invite her onto the couch with him? Or would he simply scowl and ignore her? Was he cranky when he first woke up? Would seeing Calleigh staring down at him intrigue him, or simply confuse him? Would he want her to stay, or tell her to go away and let him sleep?
If the questions bothered her this much, what would the answers do to her? Was Calleigh ready to face those answers?
It was with a deep aching in her heart that Calleigh forced herself to turn away from him. Every last part of her was screaming no; to stay with him, to make him know that she wanted him, but Calleigh couldn't. Not tonight. It was too dangerous. There were too many questions; too many what ifs - those same what ifs that had driven her out here in the first place. What if he did want her? What if he didn't want her? What if her revelation drove him away from her?
It was those thoughts, that fear that gave her legs the power to move. She'd needed to know if he was as flustered by their close proximity as she was. He wasn't.
So what could she do?
At the moment, there was only one thing Calleigh could do. Feeling her heart tear more and more with every step, she made the impossibly long trek back to her bedroom, only to face one more hour of restless insomnia.
One more hour of sleeplessness; one more hour of endless, unanswered what ifs. It would be torment, but Calleigh could face it.
But if she had looked back once, just once, she might not have had to face that torment. If she had looked back only once, she would've seen that Eric was just as wide awake as she was. She would've seen him watching her, with the same longing look that she'd given him. If she had looked back, she might've realized that they shared the same fear - fear of the unknown, fear of all those unanswered questions.
The fear that had led Calleigh back to her own bedroom...it was the same fear that drove Eric to feign a deep sleep as soon as he'd felt her presence draw near to him.
In reality, Eric's night had been just as sleepless as Calleigh's had been, for all of the same reasons.