Disclaimer: The characters involved are not mine; they are owned by CBS and other respective owners.
For the third time that evening, Calleigh felt a rush of hope as she went to open her washing machine.
And for the third time, that hope was quickly put to rest, leaving her with frustration, anger, annoyance.
Calleigh scowled at the pants in front of her, the once pristine white pair she'd bought only the weekend before. Now, they were ruined. That blood stain on the leg would never come out.
It had faded slightly after three consecutive washings, but Calleigh knew that the reddish discoloration would forever stand out against the bright white background. Even with all the bleach she could get her hands on, she knew all she could accomplish would be a headache from the fumes.
Despite reason; despite what she knew for a fact, Calleigh pulled the bottle of bleach from the shelf above the washer, getting ready for a fourth round. It wouldn't help, but it wouldn't hurt.
And besides, being occupied with washing her pants kept her mind off other things. Other people, really.
Well, just one person, actually.
It was all his fault.
But was it really?
Calleigh scowled again, forcing the very thought out of her mind. Of course it was all his fault. It had been his fault since the beginning.
He should've known better than to bring blood to court.
Ah, but then again, she should've known better than to wear brand new, white pants to work. She was a CSI, after all; the odds were obviously against her getting home with those pants still brand new and white.
Frustrated, Calleigh once more scrubbed at the stain in her pants, putting all her energy into that task so as to keep that nagging voice in her mind from taunting her; quietly suggesting to her that this wasn't anger, it wasn't frustration. It wasn't even dislike for the younger CSI, though even Calleigh had to admit that it hadn't been dislike for quite some time.
But that was something she couldn't deal with, not tonight. It was far easier to place blame on Ryan than admit that there might be something underlying there between them. Far easier, and far, far less messy. So, placing the blame on him was what she decided adamantly to stick to.
He didn't have to get so far under her skin. He didn't have to come to work in the mornings with his hair still adorably tousled, leaving Calleigh's fingers itching to smooth it out. He didn't have to walk the way he did, leaving Calleigh daydreaming about him long after he left the room.
Really. It was all his fault.
The sound of the doorbell startled her, jarring her from her thoughts. It was past eleven; who would be stopping by at this time of night? She wasn't expecting anybody. The bell rang a second time, and Calleigh lay her hopeless endeavor back atop the washer, letting the pre-treater soak into the stain for a fourth time as she padded her way to the foyer.
With a sigh, Calleigh pulled open the door, not bothering to hide her surprise as the object of her affection - no, frustration, she forcefully reminded herself - was revealed, standing sheepishly on her doorstep. "Ryan?" she questioned, slightly puzzled. "It's -"
"Past eleven, yeah," he finished for her, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. He couldn't help it; his eyes traveled over her, and his breath quickened. He'd never seen her in anything less than professional, and to have her before him, presumably in her pajamas, the tiniest trace of her abdomen peeking out between her loosely fitting pants and her snugly fitting top set his heart racing. As if the sight of her didn't already take Ryan's breath away.
He licked his suddenly dry lips, crossing his arms across his chest, only to uncross them again half a second later. She had him more nervous right now than he'd been in a long time. "You - you know what?" he managed, glancing down at the ground, "I'm sorry - it's late. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Ryan, wait," Calleigh interjected, before she knew what she was doing. "It's fine, Ryan, really. I was just…doing some laundry." She gave him a bright smile. "Do you want to come in?" she asked after a moment. He hesitated, and Calleigh, feeling slightly exposed standing in the doorway in her pajamas, made the decision for him. "Come on, Ryan," she beckoned with a smile. "I'll get you something to drink."
"Uh, that's okay, Calleigh," he declined, following her inside. "I won't stay long. I was, uh, just in the neighborhood and I thought I'd stop by and make sure you were alright." She didn't turn to him, and he had the inkling that she didn't quite buy that. He didn't either. Especially not since he hadn't known where she lived until he'd gone looking for her address before leaving CSI. He cleared his throat, following her as she moved into her laundry room. "I mean, I felt kind of bad about earlier - the whole day, really - and I just wanted to stop by and apologize. Make sure you were alright, and all that."
She smiled. "I'm fine, Ryan," she insisted, turning back to the washer. "The same can't be said about my pants…but I'll live."
Ryan cringed as he followed her eyes, noticing the reddish stain immediately. "Yeah, uh, I'm sorry about that," he said sincerely, watching her toss the pants into the washer. "Really."
Calleigh shrugged. "What's done is done," she replied. "Although," she continued, quirking her lips slightly, "I could've done without being knocked to the ground and everything," she added teasingly.
Much to Calleigh's surprise, Ryan actually blushed. Nervously he chuckled, running a hand through his dark hair, and Calleigh couldn't help but smile. She wouldn't admit it aloud, but the word that flashed through her mind was adorable. And not adorable like a puppy; adorable in the way that made her heart flutter, the way that had her searching for breath as the air seemed to disappear from her lungs.
He shifted on his feet, not exactly meeting her eyes. "Yeah, uh, I'm sorry about that too," he said quietly, taking in a deep breath. "I just - sure, we were arguing, and we were both mad, but then, uh, when the shots started," he paused, glancing into her eyes only briefly before he quickly looked at the ground. "At that moment, my only concern was you."
Unconsciously she took a step closer to him, bringing them even closer together in the tiny laundry room. "Ryan…"
He swallowed, still not looking at her. "And then when I saw the blood on your leg…I don't know what happened, Calleigh. It's like I stopped thinking. I don't know; I didn't even consider the fact that there wasn't enough blood for you to have been shot. I didn't even feel the blood on my hand; I didn't even feel the glass in my hand. And that hurt like hell for the rest of the day, but in that moment, I couldn't feel it at all. All I could feel was…" he trailed off, opting not to finish his sentence out loud. He wasn't even sure what to call what he'd been feeling. It was just so confusing.
But then, that was what Calleigh did to him. She confused him. And it only made him want to get closer to her, to try and figure her out. Ryan finally looked into her green eyes, knowing it was a mistake when he found himself unable to look away again. He couldn't read her eyes, no, but the intensity in those verdant orbs spoke volumes.
Calleigh bit her lip, suddenly all too aware of the tension rising in the room. But to her surprise, it wasn't tension that made her want to turn and run. "I'm fine, Ryan," she said quietly, giving him a small, reassuring smile.
It was then that he finally smiled in return, and Calleigh melted. He sighed, leaning slightly against the wall. "I know. I just…I admit it, I was a bit shaken today." Ryan reached out, gently pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I don't know; I guess I just needed to convince myself you were okay."
It was all she could do not to let her eyes flutter closed and lean into his touch. She breathed in deeply, trying to slow her heart and her breathing. "I think I'd have been more concerned about you," she said, reaching out for his other hand. "You could've really hurt yourself when that vial broke," she murmured, her thumb gently tracing over the cut in his hand.
Ryan shook his head. "There wasn't that much glass. What did cut me wasn't that deep anyway."
"Still, it could get infected, or you could reopen it; you should really put a bandage over it or --"
"Calleigh," Ryan interrupted, tilting her chin upward, pulling her eyes away from his hand. "I'm fine. Really."
Calleigh nodded slowly, biting her lip. "Sorry," she said sheepishly.
Again he shook his head. "Don't worry about it," he said with a smile. "I guess I did the same to you, huh?"
That pulled a small giggle from her, and it was then that her eyes finally locked onto his. It was then that the tension really became palpable; it was then she realized that his hand was still cupping her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek, while his other hand was still clasped in both of hers.
He realized it too. His heart raced as his breath caught in his throat, but he knew there was no way his body would let him step away from her. For the first time, as she stood before him in her pajamas, her cheeks slightly flushed, Ryan realized just how beautiful Calleigh was. He'd found her attractive in the beginning, but this went beyond simply attraction. It was intense; almost too intense. He had to do something, but he wasn't so sure he could get his body and his mind to agree on the same thing. "It's getting late," he mumbled, staring deep into her eyes. "I should probably get going…"
Calleigh nodded slightly, feeling dizzy. Suddenly he was so close to her, and she liked it. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating, and she felt her knees wobble. Calleigh cleared her throat, trying to look away from him, but so lost was she in his dark eyes that she couldn't even move. "It is getting late," she agreed in a whisper.
"Yeah," he murmured, though by that point, he wasn't sure what he was agreeing with. All he could feel was the heat growing between their bodies as unconsciously they crept closer together. Ryan smiled, loving the look in her eyes and the tiny gasp that left her lips as he gently touched his forehead to hers, lingering for just a moment before lowering his lips to hers, kissing her softly.
And Calleigh had thought she was dizzy before. She was certain the only thing holding her up right now was the intense need to feel his lips against hers. It was unlike any kiss she'd ever experienced; it was soft, sweet, yet there was no denying the passion in it. It was passionate without being frantic; intense without being pushy. Happily she responded, knowing she'd be perfectly content to draw this moment out forever.
Unfortunately, their lungs couldn't hold out forever, and eventually Ryan had to pull away, though he'd have much rather gone without air than without the sweet taste of her lips. Gazing into her eyes, he could tell immediately that she felt exactly the same. Reluctantly he let his hand drop back to his side, instantly missing the feel of her silky skin beneath it. Right then, he knew that if he didn't get out of there soon, he'd never be able to leave.
"We have to work tomorrow, so I really should probably go," he said again, more reluctant to leave than before.
"You know, you can stay…if you want," she suggested quietly, gently tugging on his hands.
Ryan grinned, having imagined this everyday since he'd met her. "So, uh, I take it you're not mad anymore?" he teased.
Calleigh chuckled, glancing down sheepishly. "I was never mad," she admitted softly.
Ryan laughed. "Oh, really? Could've fooled me. For a minute there I started seriously fearing for my life."
"Oh, shut up," Calleigh said, playfully swatting his arm. She shrugged, surprised at just how much her mood had lifted just from being around him. "I wasn't mad. I was just…tense, I guess. I wasn't having the best of days. But now…now it's better," she finished, smiling brightly.
Ryan smiled in return, feeling his heart skip a beat as she smiled at him like that. "Well, I'm glad," he said.
Calleigh nodded. "Yeah, me too. So, uh, you never answered me," she said, tilting her head, smiling up at him.
Ryan gave a nervous grin. He wanted to stay; he really did. He'd just never been one to rush things, and he wasn't about to start with Calleigh. "I'd better not," he replied, not missing the way Calleigh's smile faded.
"You sure?" She shrugged, releasing his hands. "I could order some late night Chinese or something; find a movie or something on TV…"
Oh, the restraint it took him to not give in to her. "Yeah. It's been a long day. I'm tired, you're tired," he reasoned. He leaned in again, pressing a kiss to her temple, sensing her badly concealed shiver. "I think dinner and a movie tomorrow night would be a better idea," he whispered. Calleigh nodded, her smile resurfacing, and he smiled in return. "Tomorrow, then. I'll let myself out," he said, gesturing in the direction of the door. "Night, Cal."
"Night," she repeated softly, watching as he made his way back to the front door. She stood there with a grin on her face for quite some time after she'd heard him shut the door behind him. She laughed softly, her eyes drifting back toward the washing machine, waiting for her to pull the knob and start it running for the fourth time that night.
But tonight, that fourth time wouldn't come.
With a smile, Calleigh turned off the light in the laundry room, finally accepting defeat. Except, in her mind, she'd won far more than she'd lost.
After all, if it weren't for that indelible blemish on the leg of her white pants, Calleigh would've been spending tomorrow night alone.