Title: Calculated Spontaneity
By: Jessica
Pairing: Jake/Calleigh
Rating: T
Timeline: Late season 8.
Summary: Think quickly, but think nonetheless – that's his philosophy. Calculated spontaneity, Calleigh always called it, though never to his face for she's certain he'd simply smirk and call her out on the blatant contradiction.

A/N: Not for EC fans. Just a warning.

She's in the kitchen when she hears it.

At first, it frightens her, the sudden, frantic pounding on the front door. It's nearly one in the morning; the night is devoid of light both outside and in – the only illumination that aids her eyes is the small, dim nightlight plugged into an outlet on the far side of the kitchen. It's enough though; enough to grant just the right amount of light to guide her from the kitchen and into the hallway beyond. From there, though, the darkness takes her, but Calleigh finds she needs no light to lead her now – she finds herself pulled toward the front door by an unseen force, almost magnetic.

And she can't stop herself. Her feet continue to move, despite admonishments from the logical part of her mind. It's late, it tells her. Go back to bed, back to Eric. Go back upstairs to Eric, it says. But listen she does not – the connection between head and heart is completely severed, and right now, the desires of her heart are much, much stronger because somehow, just somehow, she can feel exactly who is at the door.

Her mind is screaming by now, but the warnings come only through a dense haze, blurred into something entirely incomprehensible by the time the warnings reach her heart. So thick is the haze that Calleigh doesn't even entirely realize her actions until her fingers are closing around the cool metal of the doorknob, until she's wrenching the door open with something bordering on desperation.

The sultry night air, laced with oppressive South Florida humidity hits her with a force she's completely unprepared for at such a dark hour, but it's not the humidity that leaves her suddenly reeling – it's the undertones, the aftermath, a certain something so faint yet so overpowering that Calleigh finds herself placing a name to the shadowy figure on her doorstep before her eyes have even fully adjusted to the darkness. "Jake…"

He says nothing. She feels it coming, can see it in his eyes. Knows she should stop it…but she doesn't. He hesitates for but a second before a calloused palm finds her cheek and his lips find hers in the dark. Flashes of a similar kiss suddenly flood Calleigh's mind, leaving her shivery and with no choice but to kiss him back – it's forceful, hungry, driven by the glaring fact that it's been two years, five months, two weeks and six days since the last time her every nerve felt so alive from just a kiss – her mind shuts down completely then, but she's sure that, were she to allow it, it could quickly calculate the hours, minutes, maybe even seconds as well.

It's over much too soon, and Calleigh finds herself nearly swaying on her feet at the loss of contact – she wants it back. Needs it back, but can't force herself to reach out to him for her body feels damn near like jelly right now. Dazed eyes flutter open to meet his – he's gazing at her almost frantically, almost as if the mere act of being there was putting them both in danger. And abruptly, Calleigh realizes that it probably is…but rather than alarm her, the thought of danger thrills her. Danger was often an inevitability with Jake, and Calleigh has found herself surprised with how much she's missed that. Being with Jake was always a risk; it was the one risk Calleigh had been willing to take with her life. Without that, it's almost as though her life has become…boring. Mediocre. She goes through the motions, and while she'd thought before that a bit of stability would do her good, she finds herself missing the unpredictability. She finds herself missing him.

And now he's here, and she's sure it has to be a dream.

He takes a step back and it's all Calleigh can do not to reach for him; she doesn't like the chill that surrounds her with the distance he puts between them. Her heart pounds so loudly that she's certain he can hear it; it echoes in her own ears with a volume that's almost deafening, but in the end, that's nothing compared to the overwhelming silence that encompasses her when finally he speaks.

Quickly he glances over his shoulder, as though fearful of someone lurking in the darkness. "Run away with me," he whispers breathlessly, his dark eyes once more boring into stunned emeralds. "Tonight."

His request floors her – did she hear that correctly? "Wh-what?" she stammers, still far too thunderstruck by the unexpected kiss to scold herself for the wobble in her voice. She licks her lips, still tasting him there and finding herself almost overwhelmed by that – this is real, he's real, and those words really did just find their way to her ears exactly as spoken.

A quick spark dances through his eyes, a flicker of desire and need that electrifies a vast number of feelings within Calleigh, sensations that had gone dormant when last Jake had gone undercover, when last he'd left her. "You and me," he says. "We can leave and never come back." Despite the seeming spontaneity of his words, despite the wildness in his eyes, Calleigh can tell he's thought this through. That was, after all, Jake. It's how he kept himself alive throughout all the years she knows he's spent lurking through many a dark alleyway, hoping not to find himself on the wrong side of an amped-up gang member. Think quickly, but think nonetheless – that's his philosophy. Calculated spontaneity, Calleigh always called it, though never to his face for she's certain he'd simply smirk and call her out on the blatant contradiction. Though it always seemed as though a number of his past decisions were rash and unplanned, abrupt and unexpected, somehow Calleigh always had the feeling that just the opposite was true. And now…now she knows without a doubt.

She hesitates though, a million questions erupting in her mind – whys and hows, and somehow with just a glance into her eyes, Jake can read every single one of them without her having to struggle to find her elusive voice. "I can't stay in Miami, Cal – it's not safe for me. They – they'll kill me," he whispers, and Calleigh needs no clarification to know the they of whom he speaks. "If they find me, I'm dead. I – I shouldn't even be here now, but…" He trails off, electing not to finish that particular train of thought, but again Calleigh doesn't need him to – it's all in his eyes. "I, uh, I have a place – I can't tell you here, though; you'd just have to trust me."

Only briefly does the weight of that statement press upon her heart. Logically, she knows she should question him – how could she possibly trust him after he's repeatedly broken her heart, repeatedly left her with no indication of when or even if he might be back? The questions mean nothing, though, because inexplicable though it may be, she does trust him. Always has. "I – I don't understand –"

"You don't have to," he interjects, and Calleigh furrows her brow – lack of understanding goes against everything she knows. She's never blindly jumped from any cliff, and now Jake Berkeley is in front of her, asking her to take his hand and jump with him. And though she tries to tamp down the feeling, tries to ignore it, tries to think of Eric upstairs, Calleigh can't still the butterflies in her stomach – she wants to jump. Wants to take that chance; wants to let go of her control and place all of that in someone else's hands for a change.

And she wants those hands to belong to Jake. She wants to jump on that bike with him and let him take her away, wherever he wants to take her, and she knows she'll willingly go. Her heart belongs to him, has belonged to him since the very first night their bodies had intertwined messily in her bed, wrapped in the warmth of afterglow and each other's arms. Even before that – it's belonged to him since the first impulsive kiss he stole in the locker room at the academy – the setting wasn't romantic, and she was sure after a long day of training that she herself wasn't very sexy, but somehow the spontaneous kiss had been both of those. Even now, all these years later, the memory still draws goosebumps out along her arms.

If she's honest, she knows her heart has belonged to him since the very first time their eyes locked. Over a decade ago he stole her heart; tonight, it still belongs to him, and will until the day she dies.

"Calleigh, I can't live without you." The words themselves might be trite, but the conviction is clearly not. "I've tried. I think about you all the time. I can't get you out of my head. And I don't want you out of my head, out of my life." He pauses, his dark eyes boring into hers with an intensity that Calleigh can't break away from. "I need you with me."

The desperation in his voice stuns her, perhaps even more than the words, almost completely uncharacteristic of the Jake she knows. It leaves her tempted to grip the doorframe for any sort of support, but she simply swallows hard, holding her balance as well as she can. "Jake…you can't just – you can't –"

What he can't do, though, Calleigh can't say. Her words die on her tongue as he reaches out again, his touch shaky as his fingertips brush along her jaw, a touch so tenderly light that it melts Calleigh's heart. "I never should've let you tell me no," he says, his voice all but lost in the gusting breeze. "That day – with the guns, the Crypt Kings – I never should've let you tell me no. I – I should have fought for you." He pauses, his feet pulling him a step closer to her, though still just beyond the threshold he remained. "I should've fought like hell for you, with everything I had."

"Jake, I –"

"I'm in love with you, Calleigh." A hushed declaration, barely audible over the rising wind, but the reverberation it causes in Calleigh's heart leaves her dizzied and breathless, unsure whether or not she'd heard the words at all…until he says them again. "I love you, Calleigh. I want you; God, you're all I think about. And I – I just can't walk away. I tried. I tried…and I just came right back."

With those words, the distance between them becomes nothing, and Calleigh isn't even sure which one of them is guilty of closing it. All she knows is she can feel him – can feel the heat of his body, tantalizing her, making her ache to be enveloped in his arms again. She wants those arms around her so badly that it hurts.

His plans, though, differ. Instead of embracing her, his palms, warm and weathered and oh so familiar clasp her cheeks once more, and Calleigh finds herself flooded by warmth and desire and an ever-growing need to be kissing him – it's almost overwhelming, that need. She swallows hard, gazes deep into those expressive dark eyes, eyes that tell her everything she wants to know; she loses herself in those eyes for what certainly isn't the first time. "I always come right back to you," he breathes.

She's lost for words; there simply exists no way to put what she's feeling into something verbal. Her entire body trembles as his thumbs caress her cheeks, as his dark, determined eyes bore into hers, leaving her feeling as though no part of her soul is hidden from him. On a shaky breath, Calleigh murmurs his name – it's all she can summon, but somehow all that is needed.

He touches his forehead to hers, a gesture so tender that Calleigh can't help but whimper; the sound escapes her lips without her permission, but she can't muster the embarrassment she knows she should be feeling. Jake is so close to her now that she can barely breathe, and as he whispers again, she feels the warmth of his breath dance along her skin, yet more proof that he's truly there in front of her. "Trust me, Cal," he breathes. "Run away with me."

A low peal of thunder echoes in from the distance, a clear harbinger of the coming storm. But even a hurricane can't match the force of the storm brewing within Calleigh now. A storm of temptation; a storm of desire, one that's destined to overtake her, her defenses be damned. She swallows hard, glances back over her shoulder in the direction of the stairs – stairs atop which and down the hall to the right, Eric waits for her to come back to bed.

But Jake's palms direct her eyes forward again, back to his, and suddenly the greater mistake would be to walk away from Jake again. Just the thought makes her heart clench – she can't bear the idea of letting him go again.

Her mind, however, lags behind the decision already made by her heart. Fears and worries, questions without answers fill her head in a blur, and Jake perceives this with his expert ability to read her, his maddening talent for always being just one step ahead of her. "Come with me," he says once more, the words simple as they fall from his lips. He hesitates then, but for just a moment. The additional word leaves his parted lips, though the verbalization is entirely unnecessary – it's in his eyes, the quiet plea, and Calleigh finds that it's that, rather than the spoken word, that breaks down any last bit of resolve she'd had; there wasn't that much to begin with, though. "Please…"

The final vestiges of her defenses shatter then, splintering into a million pieces as he closes in on her, quickly claiming her mouth in another desperate, fierce kiss that leaves Calleigh all but collapsing against his chest. It's more intense than anything Calleigh can imagine, filling her body with heat and need and desire, and she clutches her fingers in the material of his shirt, knowing that otherwise she might tumble to the ground below. Lips come together again and again; tongues tease and taste and tantalize and Calleigh suddenly can't figure out how she ever lived even a year without this, let alone ten.

She feels his palms leave her cheeks, his fingers sliding back to tangle in her tresses and draw her closer, ever closer as he kisses her with everything he has, as she reciprocates with all that she has. It's needy, almost rough, entirely consuming, and right then Calleigh knows exactly what her answer to him is, reckless though it might be. She needs this, the passionate burst of fire deep within her soul, like nothing she's ever felt with anyone else. She needs this, the desperate, neverending desire to have him closer to her; she needs this kiss that leaves her dizzy and overwhelmed and breathless and any number of other adjectives that meld together in her mind, just like the perfect meshing of their lips. She never wants this to end, never.

It does, though, much too soon for Calleigh's liking. She's left gasping for air and clutching to Jake like her last lifeline, feeling a wild tingle in her lips and the taste of him still upon them. His arms surround her, supporting her trembling, electrified body, and Calleigh's mind immediately drifts to thoughts of those arms encircling her every night before falling asleep; waking in those arms every morning. And for that, her heart aches.

He releases her; she misses the warmth of his arms, but the warmth of his trademark grin nearly makes up for that. She loves that grin, loves the accompanying slight tilt of his head, loves the sparkle in his eyes. Without a word, Jake takes a step back, then two, then a third until he's off the front steps and on the walkway beneath. And then, almost as if in slow motion, he extends a hand to her, the hand that holds all the promises he's made, all that he can give, all that she needs.

And he says nothing; he merely waits.

But not for long.

In that moment, she can't think of the consequences. Can't think of the life she'd leave behind. In that moment, it's only the rushing emotions, the frantic beat of her heart, the desperate need to simply be with him that drives her. She needs him. Needs him more than she ever thought possible.

She let him walk away from her twice in her life…it's a mistake she won't make a third time.

Filled with anticipation and desire, she puts her trust in him and takes his hand, letting him guide her first from the steps and then finally into the night.

-:-

Sometimes, Calleigh's mind wanders.

Late at night, cloaked beneath the cover of darkness, there exists no light to chase away the shadows, the thoughts and fears that haunt her all the way until the break of dawn. And she doesn't know how to stop it; doesn't know how to let it go.

She doesn't remember just when her mind first started to drift; doesn't remember when Eric's strong arms around her became no longer enough to shield her from the ghost of another man. And really, that's what he is to her now – a ghost. No phone calls, no sightings, no whispers scattered among the detectives he'd once worked alongside of. He may as well not even exist anymore, and rather than fade from her mind like the old memory he was, he only seems to show up more and more vividly with every night that passes.

She doesn't know just when she allowed Jake to slip back into her mind.

Then again, she's not too sure he ever left.

His presence there is the only thing that keeps her from feeling completely empty; without that, the barren ache in her heart would be far too much to bear. And yet, it's painful in itself because having him constantly in her mind reminds her that it's the only place he is. It's a double-edged sword; she wishes she could banish him from her mind, but then again, no – it's exactly what she doesn't want.

And so, she can't stop the fantasies, the daydreams. She can't force away the hope that maybe someday he'll show up again. She knows it's not fair at all to Eric, her clandestine infidelity – and that's exactly what it is, infidelity.

But still she stays. Even though her heart is simply not in it, she stays. She tries to tell herself that the memories and wishes will fade, just like old photographs. Tries to convince herself that with a few more weeks, months, maybe years with Eric, maybe she can fall in love with him and forget about Jake once and for all.

She wants to fall in love with Eric. She wants to be fair to him, wants to give him everything she knows he wants to give her. She wants to give him happiness; she wants him to be her happiness.

But the more she thinks of Jake, the more she's forced to come to terms with the decision she made over a year ago: she traded her happiness for a bit of stability, for a definite routine. And there is nothing she regrets more than that.

Beside her, Eric shifts slightly, exhaling deeply as his arms encircle her waist. He seems to grasp the gravity of the moment, pressing what should have been a kiss of comfort to the crown of her head. "What are you thinking about?" he asks, his voice little more than a low, contented rumble.

In that moment, Calleigh can't help but feel envious of the man upon whose chest she rests her head. His contentment shines through like the soft glow of moonlight through the open window, and just once, Calleigh wishes she could harness that contentment for herself. If she could make herself happy; if she could convince herself that she was happy…

But she can't.

She can't…because when it comes right down to it, she's not.

She does enjoy being with Eric, being around him. He makes her laugh, makes her smile. Hell, he even knows the little tricks that leave her squirming and panting with desire, his name on her lips. But somehow, it's just not enough. Something is missing, something that Calleigh can't place a name to, but it needs no name for her to know she needs that.

The thoughts invade her mind when her walls are down completely, when she expects them least of all; they intrude upon all of the moments when her mind should belong entirely to Eric. Sometimes she catches the scent of Eric's cologne as he passes her in the hallway; she can't help but close her eyes, wishing it was Jake's instead. Sometimes Eric kisses her forehead after a rough day; she imagines the feel of Jake's lips on her skin instead. When Eric's fingers ghost over her skin as he slowly introduces her various articles of clothing to the floor below, Calleigh finds herself guiltily thinking of Jake's skilled touch instead.

Jake.

She wants him more than words could ever say.

Misses him so much that her heart feels incomplete without him.

Even though she told him she couldn't, wouldn't wait for him…she's forced to acknowledge that it's exactly what she's doing, even if only in the secret solitude of the fantasy world in which she'd give anything to live. She'd told him that she couldn't spend those long nights wondering about him; she'd told him that she couldn't live a life plagued by thoughts of him.

Calleigh never dreamed that she'd be spending her nights like that regardless of what she'd said to him. Awake, she thinks of him. In sleep, she dreams of him. Elaborate schemes to bring him back to her dance through her head night after night, distracting her from the life she's chosen, from the life she was so certain she wanted.

She doesn't want this.

She doesn't want to let go. Not before, not now. Not ever.

Calleigh isn't sure she can let go.

She's in love with him.

And he might never come back.

The painful realization is like a sword to her heart every single time, filling her with agony and leaving her feeling so empty, so broken. And she hates those feelings, hates that Jake Berkeley disappeared and left her alone to feel that way, maybe every night for the rest of her life – she wants to resent him for that.

But in the end, the only person she resents, the only one she hates, is herself. She let him walk away. She told him to leave. She told him no.

And now she's the one with the broken heart.

She's the one laying in bed with a man who would give her everything, a man who cares for her, a man who maybe even loves her, all while her heart and soul belong to another. His question reverberates within her ears, and Calleigh squeezes her eyes shut, almost as though fearful they might give her away – she can only hope and pray that Eric remains blissfully unaware of the traitorous desires within her head, her heart. She knows all too well of heartache; she doesn't want to subject him to that too.

And so she sighs heavily, the only outward sign of her mental treachery. "It's nothing," she answers finally, the weight of the lie scorching her heart. She fakes a yawn, hoping to avoid any further questioning – she simply doesn't have the strength for that. "I'm just tired…"

With that, Calleigh curls herself against Eric, nestling herself deep into his embrace. Eyes closed, she feels his arms tighten almost protectively around her; if only that were enough, she muses silently. If only that were enough to chase away the truth that haunts the deepest crevices of her heart, filling her thoughts and dreams with images of the man she tried to leave behind.

It'd been a daydream, a wild fantasy in her mind.

But if Jake were to turn up at her door tonight; if he were to ask her to disappear with him…Calleigh isn't sure she could say no.

She's almost positive she wouldn't say no.