Only one thought ran through Eric Delko's mind as he waited for Calleigh to answer her door: he was an idiot. Really, just dumb as a rock. He smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from his shirt, gripped the small, wrapped box in a slightly sweaty palm, and wondered how in his right mind he'd thought this had been a good plan. Surely, somewhere between the conception of the asinine idea, the jewelry counter, the two weeks of staring at the box on his dresser since then, the decoy Secret Santa gift, and the drive here it should have occurred to him that this plan could very well mess up what was currently a very good thing. Sure, it could end up getting him exactly what he wanted, but he'd known Calleigh Duquesne long enough to know that rushing her into something could just as easily get you met with a cold shoulder as success. And sure, there had been signals – big, glaring, you-could-navigate-airplanes-at-night-by-them signals that she felt the same way, but –

The door opened, releasing a cloud of cinnamon and gingerbread that instantly suffused him with almost as much warmth as the pleasantly surprised smile on Calleigh's face. Right, he thought. She was what had possessed him. "Eric. What brings you by unannounced?"

He tried to nonchalantly shift the present into his back pocket. "I was just… I wanted to – Can I come in?" Fabulous. Very smooth, Delko. Very not suspicious.

Thankfully, she ignored his bumbling idiocy and just stepped back with an apologetic shake of her head. "Of course. Must've left my manners on the couch with my Chex Mix."

"Chex Mix, huh?" She was wearing an old Tulane sweatshirt and shorts, her hair pulled up into a messy ponytail. And she was still smiling. Always smiling, his Cal. He took a moment to wonder how long he'd been considering her "his" as he stepped into her home, careful to angle himself so she couldn't see the box in his jeans.

"Of course. It is the customary Christmas movie snack, you know." She shut the door behind them and headed back toward her living room. Eric very nearly followed, but then he noticed the sprig of greenery hanging about a foot away. Mistletoe. As if his pulse wasn't already jumping enough, he took the short step to the side, then cleared his throat. She turned, frowned, then followed his finger when he pointed above his head and quirked one brow in what he hoped came across as mischievous amusement. He must have hit the mark because she laughed a little, cheeks pinking slightly as she walked back toward him slowly. "I, uh, I was hoping no one would notice that."

"Then why'd you put it up? Must have been hoping someone would drop by and… accidentally stand underneath." Okay, this he could do. The flirting, the teasing. They did this all the time. No reason to be nervous. This was only Calleigh. And there was only a 600 bracelet in his back pocket. Shit. There were the nerves again. It didn't help that she had just planted herself about half a foot in front of him, close enough for her smell to pervade the spice of the air around them. Roses. She always smelled like roses.

"Actually, I was thinking I might have a Christmas party, and just watch as other poor souls got caught underneath while I kept a wide berth. But then I got busy and I never got around to sending invitations, and now here we are a week from Christmas and there's no time for a party on such short notice, so its just… here." The more she spoke, the faster the words came, and that their close proximity made her babble was certainly a comfort. At least he wasn't the only one affected. "You're smirking at me."

"You're babbling."

"You're standing under my mistletoe."

"I am."

"Customarily, that means I should kiss you."

"It does."

"So I'm babbling."

"So you are." His grin widened. Throwing her off her game seemed to have the exact opposite effect on him. Wooing Calleigh was nervewracking, but something about this was… fun. "Why don't I, uh… help you out with that."

Eric lifted a hand to cup her neck, draw her in slowly, and she took the single step needed to close the distance between them. She sucked in air slightly just before their lips met and he couldn't tell if it had been a gasp or if she'd just been steeling herself, but then it didn't matter because he was kissing Calleigh Duquense, and she was warm and soft and he wanted more. He let his lips part just a little, just enough to steal a second press of lip, and then he waited, hovered, lips still touching but barely. She hesitated for just a millisecond, and he thought maybe he'd read her wrong and he was about to be sorely reprimanded for "making advances." But then, mercifully, her mouth slid against his again, and he let this third kiss hold just a second longer than the others before pulling back slowly and swallowing hard. Well. That had been telling.

Still, he wasn't surprised when she took a step back and cleared her throat slightly, pressing her lips together and looking pleasantly thrown. Thank God. She fought for words for a second and he made sure not to smirk at her – he knew her well enough not to smirk while she was reorganizing. Finally, she settled on an exit strategy. "I have enough Chex Mix for both of us."

He grinned, nodded. "Sounds great." Suddenly, he felt much better about that box in his back pocket.