A Fine Balance
Disclaimer: CSI Miami and all recognizable characters remain the exclusive property of their rightful owners, not me. I'm just borrowing them.
Summary: After all the nights she'd waited for him, who was he to ask her where she'd been? JC. May contain spoilers for any and all JC eps (Seasons 5-6). For the MiamiFicTalk challenge, prompt # 016 - Resentment
Calleigh Duquesne soared through the door of her apartment, dropping her keys and purse on the kitchen counter and kicking off her heels. "Jake?" she called out. She walked into her living room and frowned. The TV was on, the sound muted, and several lights were blazing, but the room was empty. Calleigh headed down the back hallway of her apartment, calling out Jake's name again. No answer. She poked her head into the spare bedroom that doubled as her office. Jake's laptop was on her desk, open, but the screen was dark. A quick peek into her bedroom confirmed that he was not there either. Calleigh frowned again and stuck her hands on her hips. She knew he was here – his car had been parked outside. So where could he have gone off to?
Calleigh shrugged and headed into her bedroom to change. Jake would show up sooner or later; after all, he'd promised her this morning that he would come over after he got off work. Calleigh herself was supposed to have been home several hours earlier, but she'd gotten hung up in the lab and had then bumped into Natalia on her way out, who was desperate for some help on her upcoming firearms proficiencies. And while Calleigh had meant to call Jake, her cell phone had died earlier that afternoon, and she'd groaned when she'd realized her charger was at home. She'd intended to plug it in the night before, but Jake had distracted her two seconds after she walked in the door, and it had laid abandoned on the countertop all evening. And because Calleigh was no different from most people, having come to rely on her cell phone exclusively for the past several years, she'd never memorized Jake's cell phone number.
Calleigh pulled on her favorite pair of black yoga pants and a matching tank top before sweeping her hair back into a ponytail. She was hanging her slacks back up in the closet when she heard the front door open. "Jake?" she called out, heading back into the front of the apartment.
Jake was in the kitchen, balancing a pizza box in his hand from the pizza place down the street. "Hey," Calleigh said, her bright smile entirely genuine. "Where were you?" Jake looked up and met Calleigh's eyes, but said nothing. He ripped off a few paper towels, threw two slices of pizza on them, grabbed a beer from the fridge and brushed past her as he headed into the living room. Calleigh remained in the kitchen, slightly in shock over Jake's behavior and her forehead crinkled with concern. What was going on?
The sound of the television blaring out baseball scores propelled her to action. She stomped into the other room, stood directly between Jake and the television and planted her hands on her hips. "What is wrong with you?" she demanded.
Jake avoided looking at her and scooted to the right, his gaze once again focusing on the game. Calleigh reached down and grabbed the remote, turning the television off. Jake sighed, but remained silent as he chewed on a piece of pizza.
"What?" Calleigh asked again.
"Nothing," Jake said, his voice flat. "Can you turn the TV back on please?"
The word "no" was on the tip of Calleigh's tongue, but something about Jake's resigned demeanor caused her to swallow it instead. Wordlessly, she turned the television back on and handed him the remote. Jake took it and laid it by his side. Calleigh sat down on the other side of him, her attention as focused on him as his was on the game. "Are you mad at me?" she asked, her voice softer.
His answer was not what she was expecting. "Yes."
"Why?"
"It's nothing," Jake said, reaching for his beer.
"Obviously it is if you're mad," she said. Her empty stomach grew queasy. Jake never got made at her. She was mad at him often enough, but this role reversal felt odd and out of place.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Do I have a choice?" Jake asked, polishing off the first slice of pizza and washing it down with the beer.
"Remember what we agreed upon when we got back together? That this time we weren't going to let things come in between us, that we were going to talk about what was bothering us before it blew up into something bigger?" The rule had actually been Calleigh's, but Jake had agreed to it. They'd stuck to it so far, or so Calleigh had thought. Looking back on their relationship however, Calleigh realized that very little ever bothered Jake. She, on the other hand, was bothered by a lot of things and had confronted Jake several times, slightly surprised whenever he agreed without putting up a fight.
Jake nodded, and Calleigh continued. "Well, clearly something is bothering you. And you've already admitted to being mad at me, so don't you think we should address it?"
Jake sighed. "Okay." There was a long pause, and Calleigh thought he wasn't going to speak, but when the game turned to a commercial break he tore his eyes away from the screen and looked at her. "When were you planning on telling me that you were going to Chicago?" Calleigh's face flushed.
"I didn't tell you?" she asked, certain that she had to have mentioned tomorrow's trip at some point.
"No," he said curtly. "You didn't."
"Well," Calleigh began breezily, "I'm going to Chicago tomorrow for a three day forensics conference. I'm going to be part of a panel on firearms analysis. It's part of that four conference series I told you about, remember? That one I went to last month in Denver was the first one."
"You mean the one you told me you were going to the night before, when I asked you why you were pulling your suitcase out of the closet?"
"Yeah," Calleigh said weakly. "But I told you that there were three more conferences I had to go to this year."
"You did," Jake agreed. "But you neglected to tell me when and where they were."
"I'm sorry, Jake. I've just been so busy-"
"And what about tonight?" he asked, cutting her off.
"Jake, my cell phone died."
"And there wasn't another phone you could use to call me?"
Calleigh's temper flared. "I didn't realize I had to check in with you."
"You don't," Jake answered. "But you were the one who asked me to come over tonight. I left a pile of paperwork on my desk because you wanted me to be here. And it's not like you were 15 minutes, 30 minutes, or even an hour late. You were supposed to be here four hours ago."
"I had work to do," Calleigh protested.
"So did I," Jake pointed out.
"But I'm going out of town tomorrow," she added, knowing that was hardly an excuse.
"Not that I was aware of," he reminded her.
"Who told you?"
"Delko." Jake's voice was as hard as steel.
Calleigh cringed. While Eric had grudgingly accepted that Calleigh wasn't interested in him romantically, and Jake had never suffered any jealousy over her friendship with Eric, Calleigh still tried to avoid mentioning one to the other. And although Jake had never felt threatened by Eric, even though it was obvious that Eric was still half in love with her, Calleigh could tell that it bothered Jake when Eric knew things about her that he didn't.
"You know how Eric is. He's always asking me what I'm doing for the weekend, do I have plans for supper, have I eaten lunch yet or not."
"And what should I do?" Jake countered. "If I ask you where you're going, you get defensive and accuse me of keeping tabs on you. But it seems that if I don't ask, then I have to find out second hand. And then I feel like a real idiot. I'm your boyfriend, Calleigh. Is it really asking too much to know what your plans are?"
"I just don't think that I should have to ask your permission to go somewhere."
"Calleigh, telling me what your plans are isn't the same as asking for permission."
"It seems like it is," Calleigh mumbled.
"How so?" Jake challenged.
"Well, you're mad at me."
"Because you didn't tell me," Jake said, exasperated.
"Maybe I just don't feel like I should have to tell you."
"Why?"
"I don't know," she shrugged. Jake knew she was being evasive, and decided to wait her out, having a pretty good idea what her precise reason was. He watched patiently as Calleigh picked at one of her nails, brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, glanced at the ballgame with mild disinterest and shifted her seat on the couch, bringing her legs up under her. Finally, she took a deep breath and continued. "It's just that you used to be gone all the time, and I never knew where you were, or when you were coming home. And you never told me you were leaving until a couple of hours before."
"You're right," Jake said, surprising Calleigh with his agreement. He could see some of the tension drain from her body, but knew it was still too soon to try and pull her into his arms. He was already tired of this fight and was tired of arguing with Calleigh. He'd been mad at her, yes, but not mad enough to start this fight that looked like it was going to take most of the evening to resolve. He wouldn't have even told her if she hadn't asked him point blank. He continued, "And whenever you'd confront me about it, I'd blow it off, telling you that it was my job, and that I had no control over where I was going or how long I'd be gone."
Calleigh nodded, remembering. "So I guess I just think that if you couldn't be bothered then, why should I be bothered now?"
"Calleigh, do you remember what happened to us?"
She nodded, her face pained by the memory. "We broke up."
"And who broke up with who?" Jake prompted.
"I broke up with you."
"Because?"
"Because I couldn't depend on you."
"Right. Look, Calleigh, I think what you're doing is great. And I would never tell you that you couldn't do it. But if we're going to make things work, there has to be some accountability."
"What about you?"
"What about me?
"Well, I shouldn't have to be the only one accountable for my whereabouts."
"You're not, Calleigh. I've tried very hard this time around to always let you know where I am, or where I'm going. And if you don't think that I am, then just let me know, and I'll try harder. Because I really don't want to screw this up again." He reached for her then, cupping her face in his hand. Calleigh leaned into him, closing her eyes as she thought about what Jake had said. He had spent close to half a year slowly winning back her trust, and when she'd finally decided to give him a second chance, hadn't he done everything she'd asked? He wasn't perfect, but then, that was to be expected. They were both cops, and it was more often than not that their plans were interrupted, delayed, or outright cancelled. But Jake had never once left her hanging. If he was going to be late, he called. If he had to cancel, he apologized and instantly began making new plans. And never once had he blown her off the way she'd done him tonight. And besides all that, he was forever putting up with her being mad at him over one thing or another. So was it really too much of him to ask her that she let him know where she was? If she expected him to tell her where he was and what he was doing, shouldn't she be held to the same standard? Was she so wrapped up in her resentment of how he'd behaved before that she couldn't focus on the present?
Jake removed his hand from her then, and Calleigh's eyes flew open, seeking out Jake's, relieved to see that the hardness in them was gone. "Calleigh, I see where you're coming from. I treated you really poorly that first time, and I don't blame you for resenting me for that. I would give anything to change what happened, but I can't. So I'm trying to do things right this time. And I know I'm not perfect – I've gotten you shot, I've gotten you in trouble with IAB, and I've ticked off just about everyone on your team at some time or another." He paused. "But I did buy you that coffee maker you wanted," he added teasingly.
Calleigh smiled and leaned into Jake. "And you took me to Antigua," she added, the memory bringing a tint of color to her cheeks.
"And I took you to Antigua," he agreed, sliding his arm around Calleigh's shoulders and pulling her close to him. He had wanted to go someplace cooler, somewhere, anywhere, where the sun didn't shine all year long, where there were four distinct seasons and no palm trees. But he'd told Calleigh that they'd go wherever she wanted, and he didn't bat an eye when she suggested a place even closer to the Equator than Miami.
"I'm being selfish, I know," he said. "I like having you around, and I don't really want to share you with anyone. But I also know that you need to do what you have to do." He stopped to place a kiss on her forehead. "Calleigh, I'll support you no matter what. But I can't do that if you keep me in the dark. All I'm asking is that you keep me in the loop. Is that okay?"
"I think so," Calleigh answered, more certain than her tentative words implied. There were plenty of men who she knew she could be with and who would never care where she went or when she came home. And there were just as many men who wouldn't be willing to give her an inch of freedom, who would expect her to be accountable to them for every minute of her day. Still yet, there were men who would need her too much, who would expect her to be the rock and anchor for them both, who would take everything she had to give until there was nothing left of her but a hollow shell, and then would still ask for more. She was a strong woman, but she had long since learned that her strength couldn't fix the weaknesses in others, that there were some things that a person had to resolve on his own, and that her involvement would only drag them both down.
Jake was like none of those men. He could give without taking, could take without draining her dry. He was strong enough to support them both, yet wise enough to know that she needed – and liked - to stand on her own feet. He wasn't dependent on her, but he had no problem admitting that he preferred her company above all else, and Calleigh was finding that she liked having him around too. So somehow there had to be a way to strike that fine balance, a way to trust that she could allow Jake to be there for her without suffocating her with his presence, a way to let go of everything that had happened before and to believe that they were both trying to do a better job the second time around, while realizing that mistakes and setbacks were inevitable… a way to love Jake wholly without losing herself in the process.
Jake leaned over and kissed her ear. "Are you going to miss me?"
"I am," Calleigh admitted. It was a hard thing for her to admit, possibly even harder than it had been to admit that she loved him. After all, she'd always loved Jake just a little bit, even after he'd broken her heart so many years ago. But once she'd walked out of his life and away from the life they'd built together, she hadn't missed him. It was possible, she realized, to love someone without missing them. And she'd always thought that that was better, to be able to love without needing, without wanting. But maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was better to love someone and to be able to admit that you needed them. Need had always been an unhealthy word to her, a word she associated with a loss of independence, with Al-Anon meetings and self-help books. But she was starting to learn that needing someone could be a good thing too, especially if that person needed you as well. She wasn't losing any part of herself by needing Jake. She could live without him. But she wasn't so sure that she wanted to.
"I'm going to miss you too," Jake admitted, his words reassuring Calleigh more than he knew.
Jake's lips continued a slow descent down her throat. "And I bet you're going to miss this," he teased, his fingers trailing across her waist. "After all, you're still blushing from that mention of Antigua."
"I don't know," Calleigh said later. "If you're going to give me send-offs like that, I might start going out of town more often."
"Don't you dare," Jake growled, pulling her closer to him. "Besides, I've almost perfected your morning macchiato."
"Mmm," Calleigh said, stretching out her legs before intertwining them again with Jake's. "That you have." She closed her eyes and nestled her head in the crook of his shoulder, a content smile on her face.
"And," Jake said as his grin broadened, "I think from the smile on your face that I've perfected a few other things as well."
Calleigh's eyes flew open in indignation, but Jake captured her mouth in a kiss before she could speak. "Admit it, Duquesne," he whispered. "You like having me around."
Calleigh nodded, no longer worried that such admissions were a sign of weakness, knowing now that she could trust Jake with a little bit more of her heart. She couldn't say exactly where it was they were headed, but she knew tonight had been a step in that direction, a step they had taken together. "I suppose I do."
The End