Title: Nothing But Possibilities
Fandom: CSI Miami
Pairing: Speed/Calleigh
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: CBS owns everything.
Notes: For the LiveJournal FirstLines1000 "Empire Records" challenge. Pick a line from the film and use it as the first line of your fic. I actually used two, but come on – it's "Empire Records", it's Rory Cochrane – how was I supposed to not do this?
***
"Do you think it's possible for a person to be in love with someone else and not even know it?"
The question makes Speed pause, look down thoughtfully at the person asking it. Calleigh's green eyes are serious, and he knows she's expecting an honest answer. He also knows why she's asking the question in the first place.
When they first met, they didn't get along that well. He was the quiet, occasionally surly member of the team, she the bright enthusiastic butterfly that alighted in the break room one morning, all sunshine and Southern charm. She was so unlike him that he didn't know how to handle her, and for a long time, he didn't even try, kept things on a barely civil footing with her.
Until the day that Megan assigned them to work on the same case, just the two of them. He'd seen from the hastily covered flash of dismay on her features that she was as enthused as he, but they made the best of it; they had to. And, to his surprise, he discovered that they worked well together, their differences complimenting one another, making them a hell of a team. What he remembers most though is when they found themselves sloughing through a dumpster, looking for evidence, and she made some quip, he can't even remember it now, but he remembers looking at her in shock before he burst out laughing.
"You are something else," he told her when his laughter subsided, any residual chuckles vanishing when he saw how she was looking at him.
"You know," she said, "I think that's the first time I've ever seen you laugh." He shrugged, looked down, and she continued, "You should do it more often."
He would have replied, but the basic truth shocked him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed like that.
The moment broke the ice between them, and when they wrapped up the case, he suggested that they go for a drink to celebrate. They picked up a few people along the way, and it turned into one hell of an evening, the kind that had him looking up in amazement the next morning when he was staring bleary-eyed into his first cup of coffee while she sailed in, all bright eyed and bushy-tailed. He'd been staring at her in total shock, because she'd matched him drink for drink, and she'd turned to him with a jaunty shrug, eyes dancing. "What?" she'd asked, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary, and all he'd been able to do was laugh.
That had been the start of their friendship, both professional and personal, and things had only gone from strength to strength since then. They'd fallen into the habit of grabbing dinner together once a week, sometimes more, a chance for them to catch up on each other's cases, each other's lives. They talked about everything, and in time, he'd learned that Calleigh's life hadn't been all sunshine and roses. She'd told him about the father she worshipped, and when he'd moved to Miami, he'd even met the man; on more than one occasion helping Calleigh to drag him out of a bar and home to bed. He'd been just as honest with her as she'd been with him, telling her all about his past, about the year he'd spent travelling around the country, about the reasons why. She was the first person in Miami he'd told, and he'd been surprised at how easy it had been. He'd been the only person that she told about dating Hagen, even though everyone already knew by then, but he didn't tell her that, and he'd been the one that she'd come to that night when her dad fell off the wagon. She'd appeared at his door, told him that she hadn't wanted to go home because she knew John would be waiting there for her, and he'd just grinned, stepped aside to let her in. Under her strong protests, he'd given her his bed while he slept on the couch, but he'd prevailed, and despite her concerns, he'd slept soundly that night.
Tonight had been an ordinary night, like so many others before it. And just like so many others before it, they'd been sitting on her couch, zapping through the channels, looking for something to watch. She'd found Steel Magnolias, had insisted they watch it, and he'd resisted that, because he didn't want Calleigh sobbing all over him – once bitten and all that. So he'd tried to grab the remote control, and when she'd refused to give it up, he did something that he never would have done with anyone else.
He'd tried to tickle her into submission.
She'd shrieked and struggled, but she hadn't given up. She'd only stopped struggling at the same time he had, when they'd found themselves lying on the couch, her on her back, him on top of her, their lips inches away from one another.
He's not sure who moved first, but the next thing he knew, they were kissing, and it didn't feel wrong, or strange or any of the things it probably should feel like.
It felt like coming home.
He doesn't know how long they kissed, just that it feels like forever and not long enough all at the same time. And when he finally found himself looking into her eyes, he knew that she felt exactly the same way.
That's when she asks him her question, her fingers playing with the buttons of his shirt, her cheeks flushed pink, lips curled up in a smile. He knows she's expecting an honest answer, knows why, and it doesn't take him long to come up with one.
"In this life," he says, winding a lock of her hair around his finger, "There are nothing but possibilities."
She smiles and pulls him close, and he looks forward to exploring those possibilities with her.