"Eric, no, your stance is all wrong," scolded Calleigh. "Spread your legs more and keep your back straight. You're standing like a chicken with scoliosis."

Reaching up to grip his shoulder with her left hand, she kicked his ankles apart with her foot. She pushed her right palm into his lower-back and blew a few strands of hair out of her eyes.

"There, now try." She said, holding her position to help keep his stance solid.

They were in the department's ballistics lab squeezed together inside one of the shooting cubicles. The night shift had already started, but Eric had asked Calleigh to stay late with him that evening to help him work on his shot gun accuracy.

Eric cocked the 12-gauge shot gun and raised it back towards the target and shot, missing his mark completely…again.

"Goodness, Eric," said Calleigh dropping her hands in frustration and then running her fingers roughly back through her hair, "I know that shot guns are not really your strong suit, but you've missed every target so far. Your aim is usually much better than this."

Eric engaged the safety on the gun, set it down on the surface in front of him and turned to face Calleigh, one eyebrow raised, an amused grin on his face.

"What's so funny?, Calleigh reprimanded, ignoring the flutter in her stomach that always occurred when he used that grin on her, " You know, if you shoot like this during an evaluation, you are going to get low marks, and you'll end up…," she trailed off, realization coloring her face, and then anger.

"Eric Delko, you ass," she snapped. "You are wasting my time on purpose!"

"Calleigh, I would never waste your time," Eric said, snickering.

Eric kept smiling at her with his lop-sided grin and Calleigh countered with a death glare.

"Then why do have me here an hour after our shift has ended, pretending you need my help." She demanded.

Eric's grin became a little less amused and a little more tender as he leaned in closer to Calleigh in the already snug cubicle, backing her against the door.

"Maybe," said Eric, his voice lowering and softening, "I wanted to spend some time with you. Maybe, I thought it was the only way you would consent to spending some time with me. Maybe, I'm just tired of you pretending."

"I don't know what you mean," she said, barely audible, "You're the one who…"

Eric's hands whispered against her hips and moved up to her waist rendering her voice useless. He leaned down and rested his forehead against hers, their noses touching.

"You have to tell me I can," he whispered imploringly.

One of his hands moved down her side and took hold of one of hers, lacing their fingers together.

"Calleigh," he asks again.

"Ok," she concedes and he kisses her, for the first time, and she kisses him back. It is a soft kiss, but still powerful, full of words haven't yet been spoken, and emotions that haven't yet been acknowledged.

He drew back slowly and smiled. He brushed her lips with his thumb and she smiled nervously back up at him. He turned around into a perfect shooting stance, picked up the shot gun, cocked the pump back, aimed and hit the man-shaped target directly on the red x in the middle of its chest.