I've been sitting on this story for a little while now, but various things kept preventing me from posting it. It's a bit random, but the mind works in strange ways, I guess.

Anyway, this is for Adorelo, who seems to forget on a daily basis just how amazing she is.

Enjoy.

The Tension and The Spark

It wasn't often that Calleigh found herself wandering the streets of Miami at night. She'd seen enough in her line of work to know that it wasn't exactly the safest thing one could do, but then she worked the day shift; bad things happened then, too.

Besides, she kept her gun close. And it wasn't exactly late late... just dark.

Leaning her back against the railing of the pier, she took a moment to study her surroundings, instinct keeping her alert. Bal Harbour was always buzzing in the evening. The St. Regis Hotel offered an exclusive playground for the rich to enjoy, whilst various restaurants and bars littered the area, attracting fashionistas and celebrities alike. And then of course there was the beach; stunning around the clock.

The pier had always been a source of clarity for her; she'd often found herself standing at the end of it and looking out across the bay after particularly gruelling cases. It was a rule she had, to never bring the emotional weight of her work back home. And here, she could let her thoughts go and the silence would listen, like an old, faithful friend. But, lately, it wasn't really the cases that were getting to her, and the wooden planks that once offered her comfort and peace now brought her only confusion.

Sighing, she turned her attention to her left, further along the boardwalk. It was busier than she'd thought it would be, and she allowed herself to relax a little... until -

It was his stillness that gave him away.

He was staring out at the water a little way from where Calleigh was currently standing, hands in his pockets, head tilted back. Shadows danced across the set of his jaw, the moon casting a strong silhouette against his body. And before she knew it, she was beside him. He made no movement, and she wondered whether he was even aware of her presence.

"It's late," he suddenly said, words jolting through her.

Gripping the railing tight with her hands, she answered, "I couldn't sleep."

He nodded, finally turning to look at her. "Yeah, triple homicide can do that to you."

A wistful chuckle escaped her and she glanced down, images of the day flashing through her mind. Blood; fingerprints; blood; a 45.; blood; GSR; blood...

"Hey," he called softly, forcing her eyes back to his. Her guard flew up as she did so, but faltered once more when she saw no coyness nor cockiness, neither insinuation or assumption; he was just looking.

Seconds began to slide by in silence as her eyes washed over him, searching for any sign of... something, until she finally asked, "So, what brings you out here, anyway?"

"I just caught a drink with some guys from Water Recovery." He gestured to one of the bars across the way and she nodded her understanding.

"Today was pretty hard, huh?" She took the long sigh he exhaled to be his agreement, and wondered briefly if the case had brought back memories of his own shooting... and then scolded herself for even thinking it; he needed her support, not her doubt, and certainly not her -

"I should, uh, get going," he suddenly said.

"Yeah," she answered, though she couldn't hide the disappointment from her voice.

But if he noticed he ignored it, instead saying, "You should head back, too. Do you, uh, want me to walk you back? It's not - "

"I'll be okay," she heard herself say; her brain screaming, say yes; say yes; say yes! "Thanks, Eric."

He hesitated for a moment, clearly unsure what to do, but the smile she wore must have reaffirmed her decision, for he matched it, pushed away from the railing and offered her a nod in goodbye. He'd made it several steps down the boardwalk before he turned around and called, "Hey, Calleigh?" He gestured towards the sky, "It's a beautiful night, no?"

She glanced upwards, eyes soaking up the view. By the time she looked back to him, he was gone.

And she was left with the hundreds of lights above her, lights showing no patterns at all.

. : : : .

He was already in the break room when she arrived the next morning, something she once would have found surprising - she was the early bird, not him - but now it had become a regular occurrence, and something Calleigh barely batted an eyelid about. Well, maybe... just a little.

"What's that?" he asked, handing a mug of coffee out to her, gesturing to the sheet of paper she held in her free hand.

Smiling her thanks, she settled herself down in a chair and whipped out a pen. "Just a case I need to sign off on, " she informed him, being forced to place the pen between her lips when her phone began to ring. Noting the caller ID, she put the call through to answerphone and turned her attention back to the document in front of her.

"Someone you'd rather not talk to?" Eric smiled knowingly.

"My mom," she sighed back, moving her wrist in a quick flourish across the paper. She glanced up when she heard him chuckle; frowned when his grin widened. "What?"

Suddenly, he was moving, coming to stop beside her chair, knees bending until he was eye-level with her. "You've, uh, got ink on your lip." His hand reached out briefly, leaving an inch of space between them, though she could have sworn she felt his touch. She watched him watch her mouth; counted the seconds; felt his breath tickle at her lips; wondered if -

But before her thoughts could even assemble, he was pulling away, and she had to fight the urge to tug him back to her. "I'll be in Trace if you need me; have a stack of paperwork that's just calling my name."

And then he was gone, leaving her only with the lost promise of what could have been, and the heated feeling from his ghosted touch.

. : : : .

Calleigh had often wondered about the glass in the lab, why nowhere was private and everything had to be on show. The only conclusion she'd come to was that the Miami lifestyle of 'all things flash' reached as far as governmental departments. It never usually bothered her, though, but now it only seemed to serve as a distraction; the tall, dark and handsome figure in the lab adjacent to hers was proving far too entertaining to look at for her liking.

She found herself wondering how many times Eric had watched her through the transparent material, if he ever had, if she was being silly, and -

And now he was turning to face her, where he caught her eye and smiled. She froze for a moment, silently scolding herself for letting him catch her staring, felt the blush rise in her cheeks, but somehow fought the urge to look away. His own gaze stuck fast, and she wasn't sure who was going to break the contact first.

Naturally, it was her.

Trying to immerse herself back into her work, she pushed her hair away from her face and forced her eyes across the case in front of her. Victim; male; 43; banker; stab wound to the chest and -

And why was he still staring?

Glancing up, she found Eric's eyes again, and she bit down on her bottom lip when she realised he was frowning at her. He was saying something, but, for once, she couldn't break his silent code. Couldn't... or wouldn't.

And then his gaze was lifted; she was free from his observation, left only with the knowledge that he'd want to talk later; that, if she could help it, she'd avoid him for the rest of the day.

. : : : .

He was waiting for her when she got home, body leaning against the brick of her house, the fading sunlight reflecting against the buttons on his jacket, and instantly she felt her breath hitch. Stopping half-way up the front path, she let her bag go lax in her arms and offered him a sigh. So much for avoidance.

"Eric, what - "

"You tell me, Cal," he cut in, voice soft rather than angry. Confused, she looked away for a moment, down at her bag where she began to fumble for her keys. He chose to speak again, taking a hint from her uncomfortable silence. "Do you want to talk about this?"

Her body froze, then, indecision coursing through it. Talk? Options suddenly began to open up to her, and she found herself lifting her head once again, having finally located her keychain. His eyebrow was raised, his body standing straight - like he meant business - and her brain kicked into overdrive. Could this really happen? Yes. Do you want it to happen? Yes. Now? Yes. Okay then...

She opened her mouth to speak, to say something along the lines of, "A talk would be good," but his sudden movement killed her sentence. Strong hands gripped her arms, his broad chest stood mere inches from her face. She got ready to close her eyes; braced herself for what was about to happen; was surprised when he spoke. "Well, you, uh, you know how I feel." Before she knew what was happening, he let her go and stepped past her, footsteps tracing a path towards his car.

And she was left only with the disappearing sun, and the wealth of confusion that the darkness brings.

. : : : .

Sleeping was never easy in her line of work, but tonight it was proving near impossible. Time seemed to move past excruciatingly slowly... so much so, that she almost imagined she could hear the silent ticking of her digital clock. Sighing, she rolled over, trying to force away her thoughts.

His hands and lips are hot on you, tracing promises along your -

Realising that trying to block off a mind on fire was futile, she sat up and reached for her phone. Fingers hovered over his speed dial, eyes flicking to check that it wasn't too late to call...

She tossed away her cell; of course it was.

But, she couldn't help but feel that tomorrow would bring yet another lost day for them, and she knew that she'd cost them more than enough of those already. It wasn't about the fact that they worked together anymore; that excuse had evaporated long ago. And now she wasn't quite sure what it was that was stopping them... the roles they both seemed accustomed to play, perhaps? She The Reason and he The Passion?

Resigning herself to the fact that they were both going to have to act this play out a little longer, she retrieved her phone and placed it back on her bed-side table; she'd barely set it down when it came alive and she found herself snatching it back up again.

"I'm coming over."

"Okay," she heard herself whisper.

And then there was a click, and she was left with the nervous anticipation, the realisation, that Act Fifty, Scene Who Knows? was about to be re-written.

. : : : .

Eric was breathless when she answered the door, and she wasn't sure which one of them moved first. Both of them, maybe, because suddenly his mouth was on hers; hers on his. She felt the heels of his hands whisper heat against her hips; realised he'd picked her up; knew that all she wanted to do was kiss him like this for weeks on end. And then his tongue came into play, teeth having scratched against her bottom lip...

It wasn't until she felt the hardness of the wall against her back, realised her fingers were digging into his shoulders that she broke the contact and whispered, "Wait." Her eyes remained closed as she felt him rest his forehead against hers, and she listened as they both tried to regain their breath, sighing when Eric began to speak.

"Cal, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... " He paused. "I didn't come here for - "

"I know."

Neither of them moved, then, both unsure as to what should happen next, and it wasn't until Eric finally spoke that Calleigh knew she had to do something; "Do you want me to go?"

"No," she heard herself whisper. "Just... stay with me tonight?" She breathed a sigh of relief when he nodded, sighed again when he gently let her down from his grasp. Saying nothing more, she led him down her hallway and up the stairs to her bedroom, where he closed the door behind them. He watched her climb into her bed, seemed uncertain, hesitant, for a moment. But the it's okay smile she offered him seemed to quell any doubts he may have had, for suddenly his shoes were off, his clothing stripped to that of his boxers and his t-shirt.

And then he was beside her, the warmth of his body and the gentle movements of his fingers in her hair lulling her into a deep sleep, leaving her with the knowing feeling that she could get lost like this, with him.

And leaving her with the realisation that she wanted to.

- Fin -