Yes, I got the idea from a couple of clips where Calliegh's floirted to get info. Therefore not mine. But whatever.
Please review, Anna :)
Eric glared at the evidence he'd collected, to stop himself from glaring at the slippery git in front of him, smirking because he knew despite being present at the scene, there was no way in hell he could get a warrant for his prints, and there was no way he'd give them up voluntaraly. It was taking every ounce of his will power not to do something, but he knew he couldn't risk another civillian complaint on his record if he ever wanted a promotion.
Instead, he satisfied himself with giving death glares to inanimate objects until Calleigh came over.
"Hey. Need a hand?" She asked brightly, her souther accent lilting slightly as she raised a hand to sheild her eyes from the Miami sun.
Eric gave her a half smile. "Unless you can work miracles, no."
"Well, it has been said about me... What kinda miracle are we talkin' about?"
"Getting prints from unwilling witnesses who may or may not have something to do with our murder." He grimaced.
"Who?"
He pointed to the man. Calleigh smiled. Eric watched in disbelief as she tugged her shirt down a little, shook her hair free from the confindes of the band she'd tied it up with so her blonde hair fell in soft waves round her shoulders and face. Pulling a lipgloss out of her bag, she slicked some on, and grinned at Eric. "Somehow, I doubt you'll make as much headway as I can. Watch and learn, my male friend..."
Eric's eyes followed her as she sauntered over to their witness, tossed her hair back and flashed him that infamous Duquesne smile that had melted the hearts of even the most hardened criminals - at their peril. As Horatio had once said, you do not mess with Calleigh Duquesne. Her knowledge of firearms and ruthlessness was unmatched, and the Miami blonde looks were like a siren call.
"Hi! Can y'all help me out a quick sec?" Calleigh had deepened her southern twang, her head cocked to one side.
The man fell for it hook line and sinker. "Sure. How can I help?"
"I gotta get prints from everyone who's been in the area, to work out who's been where and such. Could I get yours, as a reference? Else it could get messy for ya, in case we think yours are the killers an' all."
Eric bit back a laugh as the man followed Calleigh to her hummer, and supplied his prints.
She came back with a self-satisfied smirk on her face. "See? Not so hard, was it?"
"No offense, Cal, but I don't think flirting with suspects is gonna get me anywhere." He chuckled.
"Oh really? How many women have readily offered up anything in hope of getting your card?" She quirked an eyebrow, to which he blushed.
"Ah, I can't help it. It's the Cuban charm."
She was about to respond, when their witness came over. "Um... here's my card. If you need anything else, gimme a call. Home and cell are on the back..."
Calleigh smiled. "Thanks." Seeing her friend's look when he walked away, she added, "I can't help it. It's the southern charm."
"Jeez, Cal. You're evil!"
"I try..."