It wasn't something Eric was really used to. Working on the day shift, he had become accustomed to the bustling activity and the bright lights in the hallways. But now, both of those were oddly missing. The night shift had settled in, and the lab was almost an entirely different place. Dimmed were the lights; empty were the hallways. It was almost creepy to him. For the first time, he realized just how many people on night shift he actually didn't know.
Still, a smile crossed his face; he knew he wasn't the only one from day shift who'd yet to make it home. That was the only thing that kept him in the lab tonight after his shift was over. Really, he was ready to head home.
But not before he paid a visit to his favorite night owl. She was notorious for staying there long after the night shift had poured in.
Quietly Eric made his way down the hallway he knew all too well, toward the destination he could find in his sleep. With a chuckle and a roll of his eyes, the thought crossed his mind that he might be able to find her anytime, without lights, without a pathway, no matter where she was.
Within moments, he'd made it to his destination, and with a smile, he pulled the door open and slipped inside.
She glanced over her shoulder upon hearing the door open, a sense of dread growing within her. Not him again, she silently pleaded. She wasn't sure she could handle dealing with him anymore tonight. Where he was concerned, sometimes her feelings ran hot, and sometimes, well, mostly as of lately, they ran cold, or at the least, lukewarm.
Some days, she was glad to have somebody to go home with. But other days, she herself couldn't even begin to fathom what had landed her in John Hagen's arms. Today had been one of the latter. He'd been with her when the recoil from the spear gun left her rattled…and then he'd gone straight to Horatio about it. Unconsciously she clenched the ice pack in her grasp -- sure, he'd brought it to her, but it didn't make her any less angry.
That feeling of dread dissipated as soon as her visitor stepped from the shadows. It left a relieved smile on her lips in its wake, and Calleigh could feel every last bit of her anger dissolve. "Hey," she called out, turning back to her report.
"Hey yourself," he replied, now stepping fully into the light. "What are you still doing here?"
She shrugged, and was glad her back was to him so he couldn't see the pained wince that crossed her features. "Just finishing up a report; thought I'd catch up on some other paperwork tonight too."
Eric smirked. "Do you ever go home?"
Calleigh avoided answering that directly. "I don't see you leaving yet," she sassed.
"I was on my way out," Eric countered, slipping closer behind her. "I was just in the hallway, and I figured you'd still be here."
Calleigh smiled, knowing Eric couldn't see it. "Did you, now."
"Uh-huh. You're very predictable, you know."
Calleigh turned only slightly, keeping her bruised shoulder angled away from him, out of his sight. "Is that so?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.
Eric grinned. "Oh come on, Cal. You're not that difficult to figure out," he teased. That wasn't exactly true; it'd taken years of watching her before Eric had really learned how to read her. But this wasn't difficult; it was really no secret how much time she spent at the lab.
He smirked, amused at her playful glare. "Anyway," he continued with a shrug, "I thought you might be hungry. I thought maybe we could catch a late dinner or something."
Calleigh ducked her head, hiding her grin. "Maybe some other time," she murmured, forcing herself back to her report. She moved the ice pack at her shoulder slightly to the left with a wince; Calleigh wasn't sure which was preferable, the ache left from the spear gun, or the cold numbness from the ice pack.
The ice pack. Brought to her by John. Her boyfriend John.
And there it was. The guilt hit her like a brick wall, wiping the smile right from her lips, ripping the butterflies from her stomach before they'd had the chance to flourish. Here she was, in the quiet seclusion of her lab, with Eric Delko steps away from her, openly flirting with her, putting a silly grin on her face and making her feel better than she had all day.
And she was enjoying every minute of it. Or, she had been, until the guilt had crashed into her. It had crashed into her, inundating her mind with images of John; with a silent yet deafening reprimand. This was wrong; the flirting was wrong, the sensations were wrong, the quickened beating of her heart was wrong. Her body tensed, and her eyes stared defiantly at the report before her. Work was science, free from emotion. It was predictable. It didn't invade her personal space and invite her to dinner when she already had a boyfriend.
Eric had missed her sudden change in demeanor; he'd missed the tension that'd permeated the room…or maybe that was only noticeable to Calleigh. His attention instead was drawn to her hand, to the ice pack it held at her shoulder. Concern flooded his dark brown eyes, and to Calleigh's pleasure or dismay -- she couldn't decide -- he closed the rest of the distance, his body only mere centimeters behind her.
Gently he reached around her, laying a hand atop her own on her shoulder. He gave her the opportunity to protest; an opportunity which she did not take. He'd hoped she wouldn't take it. Slowly he lifted her hand and the ice pack away, wincing as the bruise beneath was revealed to him.
He took a step closer for a better look, leaving only the tiniest space between their bodies. "That looks like it hurts." Entranced, her hand holding the ice pack still resting in his, Calleigh could only nod. "What happened?" he asked softly, and Calleigh shivered, feeling his warm breath tickle her ear.
Calleigh laughed softly at herself. "Oh, you know, that case today. I just picked a bit of a fight with the spear gun," she joked.
"Mm. Let me guess. The spear gun won?" he teased.
Playfully Calleigh narrowed her eyes. "No, it did not win, thank you very much," she said indignantly, a tiny smirk at her lips. "Let's just say it wasn't a very graceful loser."
Eric smirked. "Apparently not." As his eyes took in the deep purple discoloration on her perfect, creamy white shoulder, his tone once more became serious. "Are you sure you're okay? That looks pretty serious; maybe you should get it looked at?" he suggested gently.
She shook her head in response, as he'd known she would. "I'm fine, Eric. It'll be sore for a few days, but really, it's…fine…" Her voice caught in her throat as he took her by surprise, throwing her for more of a loop than she would've ever been able to prepare for.
She'd known he was close to her, but she really hadn't realized just how close he was until his hand had slipped around her shoulder, his fingers brushing ever so lightly over the bruise on her shoulder, It was all she could do to keep from squirming beneath his touch. She couldn't, however, stop the way her eyes fluttered closed, or the way his name left her lips in a breathless whisper.
Eric withdrew only slightly, letting his fingers rest just above the bruise. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, concerned.
Quickly Calleigh shook her head, afraid of what might leave her lips were she to speak. For a moment she held her breath, knowing how shakily it would come if she released it then. Becoming all too aware of the growing silence, nervously she licked her lips, finally settling on a quiet "No, it's fine. It's numb, really…"
True, she couldn't really feel the pain in her shoulder, but it wasn't because the ice pack had made it numb. It was almost as though every nerve in her body had tuned into his touch and his touch alone. It was too much; it was sensory overload and it was dangerous, but underneath all that, it was oh so good.
Beyond the feeling of his gentle fingers on her skin, she felt nothing. Beyond his voice, she heard nothing.
Beyond him, in that moment, there was nothing.
Only, there was something.
And his name was John Hagen. His name resonated loudly in the tiny part of her mind that didn't currently belong to Eric. And though such a tiny part it was, that piece of her mind rang in the guilt loud and clear. Under any other circumstance, this might've been okay. But this was not just any other circumstance. This was Calleigh, feeling her knees buckle and her heart race because of Eric Delko while she was supposedly dating John Hagen.
It wasn't right. It wasn't fair; not to Eric, not to John.
You should be happy with John, her mind rationalized. After all, he could be sweet; he could be caring. Besides, he'd brought her the ice pack, hadn't he?
Yeah, only because you practically attacked him after he went to Horatio and made him feel guilty about it.
That much was true. And it wasn't the first time, nor would it likely be the last. John was overbearing at times, sometimes to the point of making her feel far less than who she was.
But that was something that, growing up, she'd grown used to. Relationships were nothing if they didn't reduce her to her lowest point. Really, it was all she knew.
Until Eric. A lazy smile crept across her lips as she imagined how he could make her feel if she were with him instead of John. They weren't together, and yet, Eric still made her feel like a princess. He was truly sweet; he was truly amazing.
He was perfect.
Even if she gave him the entire night; even if she gave him every night for a year, Calleigh knew that John Hagen would never be able to do to her in any amount of time what Eric Delko had done to her in ten minutes, with only the touch of his fingers.
Now that she'd given in slightly, Calleigh couldn't keep her mind from wandering. Despite her silent protests -- Eric's your colleague! Your best friend! What about John? You know, your boyfriend? -- Calleigh couldn't keep herself from crossing that line from reality into fantasy. Her control was no longer her own; it had been shattered by Eric's soft, lingering touch…a touch which she could almost feel skirting along her lips, playing over her bare abdomen, ghosting over her hips before the path was traced once more, this time by the tender caress of his lips...
"Where are you?" Eric whispered suddenly, his sweet, gentle voice closer than ever to her ear. It pulled her away from her thoughts, though not from her growing guilt.
She blinked a few times, trying to find once more her control; her restraint. Trying to find once more what Eric had taken from her. "What?" she asked, embarrassed at the tiny, yet ever noticeable tremble in her voice.
Eric gave a light chuckle. "You weren't with me there for a minute," he clarified, though Calleigh had known exactly what he'd meant the first time.
Again, Calleigh was thankful her back was still to him so he couldn't see the flush that spread through her cheeks. "Oh. Yeah. I'm just a bit distracted. Work, you know."
"Uh-huh."
His tone was definite disbelief, and Calleigh had opened her mouth to object when he went and shocked her into silence, yet again. Suddenly, his touch was gone, and Calleigh's body didn't even have a chance to protest before he turned her world even more inside out.
He lowered his head, ignoring the rational voice in his mind telling him this was a bad idea. He listened to that voice far too often as far as Calleigh was concerned, and it never did anything to dispel this longing, this utter want for her. If anything, it made it worse.
And now he had her in front of him; slightly vulnerable, yet almost daring him. It was tantalizing. The scent of her washed over him in waves; the soft vanilla of her shampoo, the gentle, somewhat floral perfume she wore, and the scent he knew to be Calleigh and Calleigh alone.
It was a good thing her back was still to him. If she were facing him, his lips would've been on hers in a heartbeat.
After several, agonizing seconds of that sweet torture, even the rational voice in his mind had to give in. With a touch as light as his fingertips had been, Eric brushed his lips ever softly over her shoulder, gently kissing away what remained of the pain.
Calleigh felt her knees weaken as his lips lingered against her skin. It was all she could do to keep from collapsing against his body, into his arms like she wanted to. "Eric," she murmured, feeling spark after spark race through her body, each one leaving a delightful tingling in its wake.
After what felt like both an eternity and not long enough, his lips too were gone from her shoulder, leaving her feeling strangely empty without his touch. She wanted more; needed more, but she knew she couldn't let herself have it.
It was agonizing; and it only got worse as she felt him move away from her. Her body, her heart wanted nothing more than to reach out for him, but rational thought prevented her from following through.
"Well, I'm gonna let you finish that report," he said quietly, seeing her slight nod. He needed to get out of there before the temptation became far too great to resist. "I'll see you in the morning, then," Eric added, slowly moving toward the door, his gaze never leaving her. Oh how he wished she would look at him. "Promise me you won't stay here too late, okay?"
Calleigh smiled softly, though she didn't turn to him. She knew that one look into his eyes would be her final undoing. "I won't."
Reaching the door, he chuckled softly. "Good. Go home and get your beauty sleep."
"Are you implying that I need it?" she sassed, feeling safer now that once more could she hide behind playful flirtation. But it was a safety that was short-lived, as his serious reply sent the butterflies fluttering again.
"Not at all, Cal." He sighed, pulling the door open. "Good night."
Absently Calleigh nodded. "Yeah, night, Eric." And a few seconds later, he was gone, leaving her alone again.
As soon as she heard the door close behind him, Calleigh shakily let out a deep breath, letting herself relax slightly. Or trying to, rather. Eric had come into her domain, her sanctuary, and proceeded to turn everything upside down. With a single touch, she'd melted. He'd ripped her control right away from her, which wasn't something just anybody could do.
Nobody else could do it.
But what scared her wasn't that Eric was able to do that.
What scared her was that she'd liked it.
It wasn't her place to like it. She should've sent him away as soon as he'd touched her, before he'd ever touched her.
She wasn't allowed to be feeling like this.
She had John. She had John, who could be sweet when he felt like it; who could make her feel appreciated, who could make her forget about the job; the hard cases, the lost cases. He could distract her. And, though he didn't understand her, which really was Calleigh's fault -- did she want him to understand her? -- he did seem to care for her.
He just wasn't…Eric.
This so wasn't a complication she needed, not right now.
Before he'd left, Calleigh had thought she'd be relieved once he did. She thought that, once Eric had left her alone with her ballistics report and her ice pack, she'd be relieved to be left alone; relieved to regain a sense of control.
But now that he had gone, all Calleigh wanted to do was toss that unfinished report and that less-than-soothing ice pack to the ground, and run after him.
Because after feeling his touch on her skin, his lips on her shoulder, that ice pack did nothing to soothe the ache she felt.