A/N: Sequel to Casual Observation. A three-parter, like that one. And I'm starting to think that both of these could work their way fairly nicely into a series. Anyway, with this one we're still in preseason one here. Usual disclaimers apply; nothing recognizable is owned by me.
"Give it a rest, Tim!" Calleigh yelled from her living room, the incessant ring of the doorbell starting to rattle her nerves. "I'm coming!" With a sigh she rolled her eyes, yet she couldn't keep the corner of her lip from giving a slight twitch. Sure, the constant noise was getting annoying, but oddly enough, Calleigh couldn't help but find the tiny bit of humor in it.
Only a tiny bit, though. It was just twenty to seven in the morning; nothing was completely humorous to her at this hour, despite the fact that she was a morning person.
Three months had passed since the first time she'd wrapped her arms around Tim as she rode with him on the Ducati. More accurately; three months, two weeks, and five days. Calleigh was certain she count it down to the hours and minutes as well, and, given the chance, the seconds. It'd given her quite the rush; a rush she was quickly growing more and more addicted to.
She tried not to think too much on the fact that the ride itself wasn't exactly what she was addicted to.
Pulling herself to her full height, Calleigh let out a breath and, pasting on her best annoyed look, swung the door wide open. She placed her other hand on her hip, trying to look as threatening as possible. "What the hell, Tim?"
Tim smirked; instead of making him feel threatened, the sight of Calleigh before him still in her bathrobe, her hair falling damply around her shoulders could only amuse him. "Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" he teased, his eyes discreetly traveling over her again.
Calleigh narrowed her eyes, ignoring him. "Do you have to do this every morning?"
Tilting his head, Tim pretended to be confused. "Do what every morning?"
"Bang on my door nonstop until I answer it, no matter how long it takes," Calleigh replied, trying her best to sound angry. It wasn't easy, not with him leaning casually against the doorframe with that playful smirk on his face.
Straightening up, Tim shifted from one foot to the other. "Uh…yeah." He winked. "Yeah, I do."
Calleigh stared. "Why?" she asked, lifting her hands exasperatedly.
He shrugged. "In case you don't hear it the first time?"
With a sigh, Calleigh shook her head, and suddenly, she couldn't stop it. It started with the tiniest twitch of her lips, and, trying to hold on to her dignity, she quickly ducked her head.
But she wasn't fast enough. Tim saw, and his lips mimicked Calleigh's, curling into a grin. "You're smiling," he teased. "You're not mad!"
"Oh hush," Calleigh replied, a small chuckle escaping her. She turned to walk away, leaving the door open. "Get in here and let me finish getting ready."
Tim snickered. "Running late, as always," he teased, stepping forward into her apartment, closing the door behind him.
"Hey, you're the one who's twenty minutes early this morning," Calleigh argued.
He shrugged. "Crime doesn't wait for you to straighten your hair."
Calleigh shot him a glare, unable to think up a clever retort. Her eyes drifted to the sofa, and for a brief moment she toyed with the idea of throwing a cushion at him. But she knew he'd only catch it and make some kind of comment about her throwing like a girl. Calleigh wasn't quite there yet, but she was learning. Everything she said around this man only gave him license to get farther and farther under her skin. He didn't just nudge her out of her comfort zone; he grabbed her, spun her around, and sent her flying out of it.
But oddly, for a comfort zone she'd lived in until she met him, Calleigh wasn't trying that hard to get back in and stay in it. Around Tim, she had to admit there was a bit of a thrill in the unknown. And after all, she'd always loved the thrill of flying.
Chuckling lightly at herself, Calleigh shook her head, heading back toward her bedroom. "Okay, fine. Just let me put on a shirt and we'll go. Have a muffin, if you'd like."
But Tim never even heard that offer. He'd been caught up in his teasing of her, and hadn't noticed until now that she'd been standing before him in nothing more than her robe. Well, he'd noticed at the door, but he hadn't thought once that she might not be wearing anything under it. He stared after her as she walked away from him, swearing with almost certainty that the way she swayed her hips was not accidental.
This wasn't right. Tim was the one who was supposed to be doing the teasing. Not Calleigh. He was supposed to be getting under her skin. He was supposed to be driving her crazy, not the other way around.
But somehow, those seemingly simple plans had backfired on him.
And it kind of made him wish more of his plans would backfire.
She disappeared from his sight, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Actually, he didn't know if he'd call it relief, exactly. Relief was something he'd seek if he were dealing with something bad. And the tension he felt with Calleigh? Not exactly unwelcome.
Still, too much of that tension might make him snap and do something crazy, like pin her against the wall in ballistics, his lips on hers not giving her a chance to protest. Tim knew it wasn't a good sign when the idea stopped seeming so crazy to him. It was a feeling that started as soon as he saw her in the mornings, and it didn't leave him until he made it home at night, into bed and into a deep sleep. And even then, it didn't always leave him.
But the thing was, the worst part of it was also the best part. It'd started the first night he gave her a ride home on the Ducati. The next morning, he'd been at her place to pick her up and give her a ride to work. Very easily had it become routine, and it was as though neither of them noticed when her car had finally gotten fixed. Every day since that night, they'd gone to and left work together, on his bike.
And it drove him crazy.
It drove him crazy, having her that close to him, and not being able to turn around and kiss her. It drove him crazy, feeling her wrap her arms so tightly around his waist without being able to do the same to her.
It was a hazard, really. He was convinced that letting Calleigh ride on the back of his motorcycle was more dangerous to him than skydiving with a broken parachute in the middle of a lightning storm. Or a tornado.
But Tim was a guy; danger was fun. Danger was a challenge, and who was he to back down?
With a small smirk, he wandered quietly about her living room as he waited for her. He'd been in her apartment before, but he hadn't really gotten the chance to explore.
The room was too perfect, too lacking in chaos. Nothing was out of place, nothing at all. In fact, the room looked barely even lived in, but Tim knew that wasn't the case. Calleigh just liked order. Maybe a little too much, Tim decided as he walked slowly through the room. It was calm and controlled, just like Calleigh. He had the sudden urge to knock her perfect stack of magazines off of the coffee table, letting them fall to the floor in complete disarray. After all, wasn't that what he did with Calleigh herself? Reach into her control-ridden life and turn everything upside down?
Sunlight filtered in through her perfect, sheer white curtains, bouncing off of a golden object on her side table. The light reflecting from it caught Tim's eye, and as he stepped closer, he realized it was a picture frame. Realization struck, and Tim took another quick look around the room, noting the lack of pictures elsewhere. Maybe that was why the room seemed so unlike a living room. The small photograph encased in the golden frame on the table was the only picture anywhere. Granted, Tim didn't have many pictures around his place either, but this was Calleigh. It seemed kind of sad to him.
Gently he reached out, taking the picture into his hands, letting his fingers skim over the frame, unable to keep a smile from his lips as he gazed at the photo. It was of a beautiful little girl, three, maybe four years old at the most. Radiant blonde hair fell long over her shoulders, framing her delicate face. She wore a simple yet beautiful dress, and the smile on her face was a smile of true innocence, as of yet untainted by the dark horrors of the world.
The little girl wasn't alone in the picture. She was sitting out on what Tim assumed to be a front porch, and in her lap she held a little boy, possibly a brother or a cousin, but definitely family. Tim could tell that by the same head of radiant blonde hair that the boy sported. He looked no older than two, and Tim couldn't help but smirk at the determination in the boy's eyes. He obviously didn't want to be held, and Tim couldn't blame him. He probably hadn't wanted to be held much at that age either. The little boy did smile though, but it was obvious he'd been bribed to stop squirming long enough for the picture to be taken.
Eventually he was pulled from his deep study of the photograph as Calleigh, now fully dressed, came bustling her way into the connected kitchen. From the living room he watched her, though not setting the picture back down yet. She moved quickly, grabbing herself a muffin and a coffee cup from the cabinet. Tim's eyes lingered on her long blonde hair, identical to the girl's hair in the picture. He cleared his throat, and she turned to him, her eyes dropping to the picture in his hand. "Is this you, Cal?" he asked, though already knowing.
Calleigh hesitated, not exactly ecstatic that he'd come across that picture. "Uh, yeah," she replied. Part of her suddenly felt the need to be close to Tim, but instead she stayed in the kitchen, keeping the kitchen counter that separated the two rooms between them. Perhaps with a barrier between them, the subject wouldn't go as deep as she feared it would. "I was three there. It was at my grandmother's house, on the back porch."
Ah. So he'd been partly wrong about the location. But that wasn't what caught his mind. He turned the picture around, showing it to her as he pointed to the boy. "Who's this?"
Calleigh gave a sigh, a sad smile touching her lips. "That's my baby brother. Dylan." She met his eyes, silently asking him not to push.
But Tim had looked away, his own eyes once more studying the photo. "I thought so," he said, nodding. "He looks just like you. Well, like you did back then." He gently set the picture back on the side table, smirking slightly. "Except for the part where you're calm, and he looks like he's just in a hurry to move. Run around the yard or something."
Calleigh sighed again, pushing her muffin to the side. Suddenly she wasn't so hungry anymore. "Yeah, he was always like that. In a hurry to get out."
Tim caught the badly concealed note of sadness in her voice, but before he could question it, she'd turned her back to him again and changed the subject. Wisely, he decided to let her. For now.
"Did you eat something?" she asked, indicating the muffins. "Or can I fix you a cup of coffee?" she added, already moving toward the cabinet.
"Nah, I don't drink that stuff," he said, watching her turn back to him with a confused expression on her face. "Do you know what it does to your stomach?"
Calleigh grinned cheekily, forcing away all trace of her earlier discomfort. "As long as it keeps me awake, I don't really care what it does." She drained the last of her cup before placing it in the sink, turning back to Tim. "Now if you're not gonna eat anything, we'd better get to work."
She might be pretending that everything was okay again, but Tim knew he'd somehow pressed her buttons when she didn't say another word to him until they reached the parking lot at the lab. And even then, it was only to give her usual 'thank you' for the ride. After that she'd disappeared into work, and he didn't see her for hours. He had the strong suspicion that she was avoiding him.
He didn't have a clue why, though. All he'd done was ask her a question. Nothing wrong with that, was there?
Except, apparently, where there was everything wrong with it. Obviously he'd hit upon a sore spot in her life, something she didn't want to talk about. Tim understood that enough; after all, there were things in his life that he wasn't exactly ready to put out on public display.
But the photograph? That had been on display. Not exactly public, no; but it had ceased to be private the moment Tim set his eyes on it. And Calleigh had looked so happy in the picture; how could she be so affected by it now?
Still, as curious as he was, Tim decided it'd be better for both of them if he'd let it go. Just for now, at least. Until she felt able to bring it up on her own. He couldn't stand the tension that had risen between them from just a simple question. There was always tension between them, but this was completely opposite to the feeling of tension he'd come to enjoy. This was just painful. And it'd only been a few hours; he couldn't imagine what he'd feel if he ever had a real fight with her.
Bottom line, he cared about her, a lot more than he'd freely admit. She was a lot more than his best friend. And he hated that he'd upset her, albeit unknowingly. He knew he really hadn't done anything wrong, but he still wanted to make it up to her. A small smirk touched his lips; it looked like he was going to have to finally treat her to that dinner that she'd won from him ages ago.
He spent the rest of the morning looking over trace from their latest victim while trying to find the best way to ask Calleigh to dinner. After all, he couldn't just barge in and ask her. And he couldn't make it seem like a big deal. Tim had to do it casually; make it not seem like a date. Even though that was exactly what he wanted it to be.
He found his chance to slip it into conversation a little later in the afternoon. He had to stop by ballistics anyway to pick up her report for Horatio. Tim just hoped she wasn't still upset about the morning. He had a slight inkling that the fact that he hadn't seen her all day had more to do with the simple question he'd asked her than the fact that they'd been fairly swamped all day. Mentally he crossed his fingers as he paused outside her lab.
"Hey Calleigh!" he called out as he pushed through the door. He smiled as he saw her working at the table. "Do you have that report from the Callahan case? Horatio wants it," he said, striding over to her, stopping in front of the table.
She glanced at him briefly, though her smile was warm. "It's what I'm working on now, Tim. Give me ten minutes, okay?"
He nodded, setting his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his hands. "No problem."
She smiled and went back to her writing, and Tim took the opportunity to watch her. He stared at her for a moment; something was different about her. Tim knew it wasn't her mood; she was still cheerful with that slight edginess that had been there this morning. She hadn't changed clothes or anything, and the faint scent of her perfume still hung in the air, still intoxicating to him. He pursed his lips, watching her for a moment more before it hit him.
Her hair.
"You did something different with it," he muttered, almost to himself.
Calleigh glanced up, a clearly puzzled look upon her face. "What?"
Unconsciously, Tim reached out, brushing his fingers through the loose waves. "Was your hair curly this morning?"
Calleigh froze. Discreetly she breathed in deeply, fighting the ever-growing urge to close her eyes. How did he do this to her? Just months before, she'd been ready to walk down the aisle. And now, here she was, feeling as though time had frozen just because Tim Speedle had touched her.
And really? He wasn't even touching her. His fingers were just barely brushing through her hair; logically, she shouldn't even be able to feel it at all. But she did feel it, and it was enough to make her heart race; make her dizzy. And she couldn't move away from him. Her mind screamed for her not to let him take control like that, but she already knew there was no part of her body that was going to listen to her mind. No, the rest of her wanted more.
It was another moment before she realized he was calling her name. Forcing herself back to the present, she took a deep breath, wishing he'd stop playing with her hair, because really, it was making her all kinds of crazy. Yet at the same time, she dreaded the moment she lost his touch.
Giving what she hoped was a nonchalant smile, she shrugged, glancing back to the report she was writing. "Oh, yeah. You didn't give me a chance to finish drying it this morning," she replied, knowing her pause had been far too long. "It tends to curl a little when it air-dries."
Tim pursed his lips, finally letting his hand drop from her hair. Calleigh gave a half disappointed, half relieved sigh. "Maybe you should let it air-dry more often," he murmured, delighting in the smile that crept across Calleigh's lips.
"Maybe," she replied, her cheeks tinting just slightly. She shifted a bit on her stool, trying to get comfortable again. It wasn't an easy task; with one touch, Tim had set every nerve in her body on fire, and now she couldn't sit still.
As edgy as she was, her heart nearly jumped out of her chest at Tim's next move. Either he didn't notice her edginess, or, more likely, he did, and just wanted to add to it. He leaned over the table, glancing up at her with a grin on his face and a mischievous glint in his eyes. Calleigh breathed in deeply, consequently breathing in the scent of his cologne. It nearly was enough to make her dizzy all over again, and along with the way her heart was pounding, Calleigh was suddenly afraid she'd fall right off the stool. Surely he had to know what he did to her. "Can I help you?" she asked in what she hoped was an annoyed yet amused tone. Unfortunately, the words that met her ears had left her mouth in a breathless gasp.
Tim smirked, pretending to stare down at the report she'd been writing before he'd decided to turn the afternoon upside down. "You spelled that wrong, you know," he said cheekily, pointing out a word on her report.
Calleigh narrowed her eyes. "I did not!" she protested, leaning over to look at the page herself.
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, you did." He snickered. "There's only one t, not two."
"I think I know how to spell, Speedle."
"Yeah. You think."
Calleigh glared and reached out to hit his shoulder, but Tim was faster. He'd moved out of her reach before she'd even attempted to hit him. He grinned teasingly. "Fine, if you think it has two t's, then you can just bring a dictionary to dinner tonight and then we'll see who's right."
"I know for a fact -" Calleigh paused, tilting her head. "Wait, what?"
"You know, a dictionary? That big book with all the words?"
"I know that!" Calleigh retorted as Tim snickered, obviously quite pleased with himself.
"Did you? Because you seemed confused."
"I wasn't!" Calleigh protested. "I mean, I am, but I'm not. I don't know - I was just -" she paused, knowing she was about to walk right into another of his teasing comments about her anxious rambling. Instead, she raised a questioning eyebrow, biting her lip. "Dinner?"
He shrugged. "Well, yeah. It's what I came in here for."
"You came in here to eat dinner."
Tim narrowed his eyes. "You know, you don't pull sarcasm off as well as I do. Not that many people can, though," he added. His seemingly annoyed look quickly became neutral, and once more he stared down at the report on the desk. "But yeah, that's why I came in here. I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner tonight," he asked calmly, almost as though it were an afterthought.
Calleigh stared at him. "Dinner," she repeated again. "Tonight?"
He grinned. "Yeah, why not? I owe you dinner, remember?" He smirked, slightly amused that she'd reminded him of that fact every day since she'd won that bet, but now she'd seemed to forgotten about it. Tim briefly toyed with the idea of throwing in a clever remark about dessert afterward, if for no other reason than Calleigh would probably hear it the wrong way and end up flustered.
She looked down at the table, fidgeting briefly with her watch. "Um…okay," she replied slightly less than eloquently, though to her surprise, Tim for once seemed to overlook her nervousness.
He nodded. "Okay, right after shift; is that fine?"
Calleigh nodded in return. "Yeah; yeah, that's fine."
Tim smirked. "Good. It's a date." With that he winked, and he turned around to leave, leaving Calleigh once more alone.
She breathed out, trying to calm her racing mind. All trace of rational thought had left her, leaving her only with the echoes of Tim's last statement. She neither remembered the discomfort he'd invoked in her earlier, nor did she realize that he'd left ballistics without picking up the report he'd supposedly been there to get. "Chill out, Duquesne," she muttered to herself, closing her eyes. "It's not a date. Not even close." She nodded, as though trying to seem more convincing to herself.
But despite what she told herself, Calleigh couldn't help the grin that spread over her lips.