CSI MIAMI FAN FICTION CHALLENGE:
More information can be found in the profile. But, basically, 12 different authors are writing this story - we have one chapter each.
- - -
Date: May 21, 2008
Author: Kazalene
Beta'd by: lostladyknight
Three Elements to include:
1. Eric must sing
2. Must be a mention of palm trees
3. Horatio must spill coffee over himself
- - -
Contains spoilers for All in/Ambush, Down to the Wire and Going Ballistic - Season 6 pretty much. At least the EC side of things anyway!
Okay, I'm hoping that this is going to be enough to kick start this project. And it really was a bum to write. I wanted to throw us straight into the action 'cause a fifteen hour road trip would have been so boring to read, as well as to write actually :P.
Chapter One: Hard Day's Night
The lime green and palm tree decorated wallpaper fluoresced even in the dark, staring back at the two souls who watched it from two different sides. It was slapped over the wall that separated their adjacent rooms, acting as a solid and symbolic barrier between the two people; both of them weighted down with the thoughts of one another, both of them well aware that sleep was not going to come easily tonight...
Eric Delko sighed deeply as he sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to shake away the thoughts that had been plaguing him for most of the night. Although, when he thought about it, those thoughts had been there longer than that; he couldn't remember the last time that Calleigh Duquesne hadn't graced his mind, and after taking a moment to glance over at the time - 02:03 - he flopped himself back down onto his pillows.
As he closed his eyes and attempted to fall asleep for what must have been the hundredth time that night, his mind took him back to a conversation that he'd had with her a few days ago. Six days in fact.
Stetler had sidelined Calleigh and whilst it hadn't entirely been Eric's fault, the... checklist that he had dropped had hardly helped her. If only Cooper hadn't have posted that video of her finding it on the internet...
No. He didn't want to go there again. Calleigh's kidnapping had scared him so badly and forced him to realise how much he really did need her. So badly, in fact, that he had told her - in their own special ambiguous way of course - taking care not to cross that greyed line in their friendship.
So he had taken her home, sat with her for a while; just been there. And then that had been that. They had gone back to their bubbles of indifference; so much left unsaid and not likely to ever be said.
At least that's what he had thought until six days ago when he had confronted her about why she hadn't told Stetler the truth. The truth about the crime scene note that he was responsible for...
/EC/
"Okay," she sighed. "About the sheet, here's the thing," she swallowed as she decided how best to broach the subject. "After you were shot you came back to work pretty fast, and maybe it was too fast - " She took a moment to breathe. "And I guess that I was just so happy that you were okay that I didn't say anything and I probably should've - "
"Say anything about what?" he cut in, a little scared about where she was going with this.
"Well, are you okay?" She held his gaze, trying to get across to him how sincere her words were.
He remained silent, just merely inhaled and exhaled a few steady breaths; not quite sure how to answer her question because truthfully? He'd be lying if he said he was; some days were good, other's not so much.
"We never talk about it. You never talk about," she pushed, her green eyes locked with his dark ones; trying to penetrate through that barrier of indifference that they had put up around one another.
The silence resumed as he struggled to say the words that he had kept hidden for far too long, words that he'd suppressed for fear of looking... weak. He knew that he should give her more credit; Calleigh's faith in him would never falter no matter what he did. They had been through too much together. And her presence always seemed to have a calming effect on him; gave him his professional confidence back.
But, that didn't stop how he felt about himself and his gaze fell to the floor as he slowly mustered up the courage he needed to open up to her. "It's a process..." he began, lifting his eyes back to hers, "and the medication helps. And therapy helps - " He paused, taking a moment to gauge her reaction. "And I make a few little notes here and there and that helps."
She stared back at him, silently letting him know how much she appreciated him telling her that. And realising that it was her turn to speak, she sat up a little and took a deep breath. "Okay, well, I have to say something." She paused, suddenly very aware about what she was trying to tell him; she needed to say it, however, needed to get it out in the open. And so after a quick glance at the floor and some silent encouragement from her sub-conscious, she slowly allowed herself to meet his gaze again. "Because I feel for you and you know that," she murmured softly, her accent coming through a little stronger than usual with the rawness of her words. "But if one memory lapse allowed a killer to go free - "
"I would've turned in my badge a long time ago and you know that," he cut in, a little sharply. "I'm retraining my brain, Calleigh, but I know how to do my job."
"What about the cheat sheet?"
He sighed, his frustration evident in the way he opened his palms. "Why does everyone keep calling it that?" He watched as she diverted her gaze, clearly uncomfortable about what they were talking about. But now that she had brought it up, he wasn't going to let her detach and build that barrier back up. So as she started to fiddle with her bag he began again, "Work isn't a test that you take; it's something that you do right every time. So what if I take a few notes? Now would it make you feel better to know that I've never consulted them? Not once!"
/EC/
He had stopped then. He had seen the guilt in her eyes for allowing herself to doubt him and, despite himself, despite the valid points that he had given her, he couldn't help but feel bad. And his eyes flew open as his mind began to play what had perhaps been the most significant part of their conversation.
As far as he'd been concerned, if anyone should've felt guilty it should have been him. It was his mistake that had got her into that mess - at least partly, anyway - and so he had told her that he would go to Stetler and confess.
She had told him not to, though. Had put herself on the line to protect him and told him to find another way to catch their killer; "Do that, instead. For us."
For us. Those two little words that had suddenly sounded more like a never-ending dissertation or a poem with enjambment...
He sat up again and released a sigh of frustration because, yes, she had admitted something to him that day. Had uncharacteristically taken a step across that greyed line. But still nothing had progressed.
Or had it?
Three days after said admittance, Calleigh's bad luck had struck again and their case had nearly been compromised when an old bullet discharged and set fire to her lab. All he'd cared about, however, was whether she was okay; 'and thank God she was.' They'd shared another moment then; he'd gently reached out to take her hand. It was a simple gesture, one of reassurance, but she hadn't pulled away. Had squeezed it back, in fact. And just for a moment, a wisp of a moment, those boundaries of hers had been disregarded and he'd felt something; but then he always felt something. And he was starting to think that she was slowly opening her eyes to it, starting to take tentative steps forwards as opposed to backwards...
But then what did he want from her?
He pinched the bridge of his nose when he realised that what he wanted was nothing that a sleepless night could solve; they were too close to take that step, had too much trust in each other to lose should something go wrong. These were her reasons, of course, but he had to keep telling himself them; there was no way he could play by her rules otherwise. But maybe, just maybe, she was beginning to falter, too.
Because it was so hard.
Especially now, though. Now that a measly few centimeters of ghastly wallpaper and three inches of what was most likely plywood were all that separated him from her; at least physically, anyway. Emotionally, it was altogether a different story; more like a giant ocean with an ambiguous current.
But, still, there was no escaping that Calleigh Duquesne was in the room next to him, blissfully unaware of just how much he was thinking about her.
/EC/
'We work together,' Calleigh scolded herself. She wasn't quite sure how many times she had told herself that now, but she was pretty sure that if she thought it again then it was in serious danger of losing all effect on her. Eric was her friend, a friend she had absolute trust in. A friend she had strong feelings for and...
No. She needed to stop it. Thoughts like these were bad. Very bad. Besides, things were... complicated. And as much as she hated to admit it, she was scared of taking her relationship with Eric to the next level; there was the lab to think of, her responsibilities, their friendship, Eric's health...
Jake.
She suddenly felt a slight twitch in her chest as she realised that she had managed to close Jake out, whilst somehow letting Eric in; it wasn't fair to either of them.
After her kidnapping, she'd taken some time to do some reassessment and had forced herself to have 'the talk' with Jake. Had told him that she needed some time to sort things out; she had neglected to tell him, however, that Eric was included in said things.
But here she was, in a hotel room adjacent to Eric's, surrounded by her bubble of indifference.
And even though she had put her feelings out there to him - albeit only briefly and a little cryptically - nothing had been sorted. It wasn't just because of some incoherent reasons - or excuses - that prevented her from taking the final step that would place her well and truly over that line, but it also had something to do with that annoying little word known as truth.
Because sometimes, when you finally tell it, it doesn't set you free... but locks you away. Forever.
Which is exactly what would happen because, 'we work together.'
Her hands found her hair and she tugged at it as the statement popped into her mind again. She was just searching for excuses now, struggling to stay in control of her emotions. She hated that Eric could affect her like this; no one else could. And this, together with the thin wall that separated them, was making her feel uncharacteristically vulnerable.
Deciding that vulnerability was not something that she wanted to feel, she rolled over in her bed in the hope that if she could find a new comfortable position, then perhaps she could shut her mind off. And she allowed a smile to grace her lips when she found a nice little nook in the bed-sheets; 'at least that was something, right?'
When Horatio had informed her that she was being sent to a conference in Quantico to learn about some new improvements for the lab, one of her first concerns had been the accommodation. She wasn't too fussed about room size, wallpaper - although if she was honest, it was ghastly - whether it had cable...
She couldn't care less. It was whether or not her bed would be comfortable.
And so after mentally thanking God that it was, she laughed bitterly into her pillow; realising how juxtaposed she was with herself. Physically comfortable, emotionally the furthest point from it.
Coming to Quantico would have been fine... if only Eric hadn't chosen to have entered the room when he had...
Horatio had been on his way to his office when he'd caught her in the break room and, noticing that it was empty, he had taken a moment to question her about Eric's well-being - because he was sending her off on said conference and needed to know whether Eric would be okay without her. It was something that had bothered her at the time, still did, in fact. She had feigned him off, of course; for some reason she felt like she had to protect Eric from anything and everything; even if it went against her better judgement. Which it often did.
The lieutenant's suspicions had obviously not been abated entirely, however, because when Eric had entered the break room and walked straight into their boss - causing Horatio to spill the cup of coffee that Calleigh had just handed him all over himself - he had told Eric to go with her.
It was a touchy subject - Eric's shooting - and it was one that everyone had danced around, including herself. Horatio had seemed to think that it would do Eric some good to get away; especially considering how quickly he had come back to work. And he had confided to Calleigh that it would give Eric the chance to indulge in a refresher course, should the man feel that he needed to.
But, Horatio had pretty much informed her that she had to hint at it a lot while they were away...
The plane journey from Miami to Quantico had been relatively awkward free and until right now, she had thought that perhaps she had been a little silly to think that their mutual feelings for one another would cloud their time here. Their banter had been light and playful; the oh-so-typical way of conversation that they had adopted over the years... and then somehow lost. It had been comfortable and familiar, and had reminded her of how much she'd missed it.
She laughed when she remembered one of the exchanges they had shared on the plane; Eric had moaned that he would have preferred to have taken a hummer up here...
/EC/
"A road trip would have been so much more fun," he whined. "We could have seen the sights."
"It's a fifteen hour drive, Eric!"
"Well, that's what gas stations and roadside cafés are for."
She laughed and took a moment to rummage around in the little pocket on the back of the seat in front of her, searching for a decent magazine to flick through. "What, so we could buy awful cups of coffee and risk catching hepatitis from the probably unclean toilet seats? Come on, Eric, it would have been horrible. No one likes being cooped up in a car for that long."
"Actually, I happen to like it," he challenged, wriggling about in his seat in an effort to get comfortable. "Driving is my release. All you need is a couple of good tunes, the windows rolled down, and you've got the world at your feet."
"So I would've had to have endured you serenading me the whole way here, then?" she joked as she began to flick through the magazine of her choice.
"Less of the endured, thank you." He feigned mock insult. "You never know, you might have liked my voice," he teased.
He laughed when she arched an eyebrow and reading it as a silent challenge, he glanced around looking for some inspiration. And when his gaze settled onto a passenger whose gender was a little on the ambiguous side, he knew he'd found it.
Then with a wicked grin and a quick gesture over to said passenger, he began to sing:
"Love put me wise to her love in disguise,
She had the body of a Venus,
Lord, imagine my surprise!"
Calleigh widened her eyes and reached out to cover his mouth, but he gently pushed her away and just managed to belt out, "(that, that) Dude looks like a lady!" before her hand was back. "What, you don't like Aerosmith?" he grinned against her palm, only for her to clamp down harder in response.
Satisfied that she had silenced him, she flashed a polite smile at the passenger in question and tried her hardest to shoot Eric a glare; she would have succeeded, too, if it hadn't been for the small smile that tugged at her mouth...
/EC/
That same smile that was there now. Playing incessantly about her lips like it knew damn well that she didn't want it there, but was determined to hold on just to spite her.
So it was with a wistful sigh, and a slight shift of her body under the bed covers, that she finally resigned herself to the fact that at some point during their time here, she was going to have to deal with her situation with Eric. She refused to let it get in the way of why they were here, however.
No, they were here for a conference that CSI's from all over had been sent to. They were here for work purposes only.
Which is why she had to murder those butterflies that she got every time Eric was around her. And why she had to stop glancing over at that hideously floral wallpaper that separated her room from his.
Because the best way to avoid dangerous thoughts, was to not think about them at all...
Next Author: lostladyknight
Chapter post date: 25th June.