Title: Discovery
By: Jessica
Pairing: Eric/Calleigh
Rating: T
Timeline: During 7x03 : And How Does That Make You Kill? Scene elaboration.
Summary: The words spiraled in her mind, dizzying her with desire, with longing. She'd thought she was good at ignoring it, but really, when it came down to her heart, Calleigh wanted the same things as Eric. With Eric.

"My secrets are in here too. I'm okay with this."

The words, innocent as they may have seemed, echoed with a vengeance in Calleigh's ears. With every agonizing minute that passed, instead of fading out, they only seemed to grow louder, blocking out all trace of any other sound. They filled her mind, effectively blocking away the particulars of the case. There was little danger of any of these people's secrets ever leaving this room via her, for Calleigh could barely see what she was reading at the moment, let alone words she had read mere moments before.

It was a good thing they couldn't use any of this, because Calleigh's mind just wasn't in it, not to mention her heart. She may as well be elsewhere completely, a symptom she was experiencing more and more whenever she was with Eric. If ever she'd needed proof that being with Eric would affect her work performance, this was it.

The problem, obviously, was that her work was affected even though she wasn't with Eric. She wanted to be with him; had wanted to be with him since before she'd made that grave decision that had left his heart trampled in the middle of the lab less than two years ago.

Her choice that day had come back to haunt her, and yet, Eric was still right there beside her. And, even more than that, he still trusted her beyond anyone else.

Clearly, the sheer trust that Eric had in her was more important than catching a killer, a truth that nearly made her blush in selfish shame. A girl was dead, somebody's daughter – someone that Eric had a personal connection to, and yet, Calleigh could only concentrate on the bubbly feelings within herself. Eric trusted her.

Sighing deeply, Calleigh shook her head, reaching for another file. This was futile; completely, utterly futile. She couldn't concentrate, and that wasn't even all of it. Beyond that, Calleigh knew nothing they found here would be admissible in court. She knew that this broke the laws of doctor-patient confidentiality, not to mention the very basic foundations of ethics.

Still, she carried on, and though she would never admit it to herself, there was only one reason she didn't stand up and walk away, and it all went back to the words Eric had used to convince her.

"My secrets are in here too."

He'd told her that. She knew there was a chance she would stumble upon them. And even though she knew that, it still didn't keep her heart from stopping when her eyes took in his name just two files later. Her fingers trembled with the knowledge of what she held in her hands. His name screamed up at her, deafening her to all else. Quickly Calleigh glanced to Eric, half hoping he'd perceived her reaction to this one particular file, though at the same time she knew it was a reaction that was mostly internal. Her face remained stoic; her eyes remained determined – but inside, she was reeling. She hadn't even read more than his name, but that made no difference to her heart.

Part of her wished there was something Eric would notice; part of her wanted him to question her, effectively giving her an escape route. But the rest of her…

"I'm okay with this."

And there were those words again, that quiet affirmation of his trust in her. Eric couldn't not know that the chances of his file being in her stack were fifty-fifty, and yet, he'd all but invited her to join him.

With one last glance to Eric, Calleigh took a deep breath, preparing herself. She didn't actually have to read the whole file; Eric clearly wasn't a suspect in the murder, so she really didn't have to look through it at all. But there was that one little sliver of curiosity that got to her, one little spark that started the flame within.

Maybe as long as all she did was skim over the words, Calleigh could assuage her curiosity without feeling too much like she was invading the most private parts of his mind. Somehow, though, she knew it wouldn't be that easy. All the concentration she'd lacked while reading the other files seemed to have returned tenfold to her.

Preparing herself mentally, Calleigh dove in. But beyond the very first sentence, the farther she read, the more she realized that no amount of mental fortitude could've prepared her for the words that stared back at her. She was reading secret after secret, about his recovery, about his life, about everything. They were words she was never supposed to read, and yet, some of them, she realized with a surge of guilt, were secrets that wouldn't have been secrets at all had she been watching him.

For the last few months, she had been so caught up in her own life, so involved with her own relationship drama – throwing so much into her relationship with Jake, a relationship that once again left her with questions and lies and doubts, and forcing herself to keep some amount of distance between herself and Eric – that she had taken Eric at his word every time he reassured her that he was okay, that he was just as healthy as he'd been before. She hadn't even realized that he'd switched therapists; she hadn't realized he was seeing one regularly.

He bounced back; he always did. But it still didn't make Calleigh feel any better about the words she was reading, the things she knew she should've seen in Eric herself. For years, she'd called him her best friend, and yet, she'd seen none of this.

She'd thought his apprehension at coming back to work had faded early in his first month back. He'd started out with a few mistakes, but once those were behind him, Eric had seemed back to his old self. He smiled, he joked, he seemed to enjoy what he was doing; the last thing Calleigh would have called him now was apprehensive.

And yet, there was that word, right there in front of her eyes. Still apprehensive at work; second-guesses processes that he feels should come second-nature to him. Expected to jump right back in, and since it didn't happen that way, he worries whether he'll ever be completely back. It was the complete opposite of anything she'd seen in Eric lately; he seemed so confident again, and Calleigh had found herself feeling proud of him for fighting his way back so quickly. Now, however, she felt only a guilty ache in her heart – if she had paid more attention to him, she might've realized some of this.

But even as she glanced up at him now, Calleigh would never apply the words on the paper to the man sitting just mere feet away from her. In his eyes was a deep concentration, a determination that offset everything she had just read about him. But the evidence was in the writing – how could she dispute that? The only explanation for it was one that made her heart ache even more – at one time, Eric had been an open book to her, and now she couldn't read him. She couldn't see past the strength of the façade he put forward.

And while Calleigh knew she was guilty of doing the same, she couldn't deny that it hurt for him to shut her out. It hurt.

But while she knew that reading on was now not only wrong, but that it would hurt even more…she still couldn't stop. She couldn't just put his file down and move onto the next, even though she knew this could ruin their friendship. Secrets were secrets for a reason, after all.

For that reason, Calleigh merely skimmed the next few paragraphs, forcing herself into Eric's place – what if those were her secrets? Would she be okay with having them out in the open? Even if Eric was okay with that, Calleigh knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she couldn't give him that in return, not yet, at least.

But still, she skimmed along, almost as though searching for something in particular. There was one word, one name that her eyes probed for, even though she knew what she might find might not necessarily be something she wanted to read. But, if anything, that only thrilled her more. That was the realization that should've set off the warning bells inside her head, but then again, this was Eric. With him, none of Calleigh's usual rules applied.

The farther her eyes traveled, the more a dark cloud seemed to cloak her. Deep within, she knew it was selfish of her; these were Eric's therapy sessions, after all. The focus should be on Eric – his issues, everything he'd gone through. The very least of those issues had anything to do with her.

And yet, there it was, the one word, the eight small letters that stopped her heart cold before reawakening it with a series of fitful flutters. It was there, plain as day, no matter how many times she attempted to clear her vision.

Calleigh.

She was utterly unprepared for the rush of emotion that crashed into her upon seeing her name there. Almost sure was she that Eric could hear the erratic beating of her heart, and if he couldn't hear that, surely he could see the flush in her cheeks, for the heat that rushed to her face was nearly enough to suffocate her. But no, Eric's concentration on the case was just as strong as ever, and Calleigh's discovery remained a secret to him. It wouldn't for much longer, though, if Calleigh couldn't get a grip. The entire room seemed to spin around her; she was dizzy, and if she hadn't been sitting, she knew she would be on the floor by now – the sight of her name there hit her that hard.

It was at that point that all hope of reining in her curiosity dissipated. Discreetly, Calleigh breathed in deeply, hoping to calm her racing mind and heart. It wasn't as though she had walked in on a private conversation and heard her name there; unlike that scenario, she had the answers in front of her. She could find out exactly what he'd said about her, and the mere fact that he had anything at all to say about her – it elated her, and even if she had tried, she knew she couldn't stop reading there.

Worries every single day whether or not the bullet in his brain is going to shift, undoing all the progress he has made, or more. Got so bad there for the first couple of months – it was all he could think about, so much that he felt almost as though he was "going over the edge." But even in his darkest hours, it seemed there was one constant in his life that was always able to keep him steady – keep him from losing all hope. The strength he needed to make it through; the one place he feels he has always been able to find that is in his coworker, Calleigh.

She is the one subject that he doesn't close down about. The shooting and its aftermath, losing his sister, the lawsuit – he has always been reluctant to talk about any of this. But this Calleigh…sometimes, she's all he wants to talk about. It's clear that she's been his rock through not just the shooting, but everything. She's the one who filled his mind through the grueling physical therapy sessions he forced himself through early on; those were the thoughts that pushed him on, maybe even the very thoughts that made him want to get better. The way he talks about her – it's almost as though she is all he's got. She's everything to him.

Calleigh couldn't help but gasp softly, sneaking a covert glance to Eric afterward. She'd known he had feelings for her – she even shared those feelings – but this…this was beyond what she had seen, or rather, more than what she had allowed herself to see. She'd been in a relationship, and she'd forced herself to look past the fire in his eyes whenever he looked at her. They did work together, she'd reasoned, so she was doing the right thing for them. She and Eric couldn't do this.

And yet, with two small paragraphs about her, she was rethinking that.

That was a lie, and Calleigh knew it. She'd been rethinking that "truth" for months, a year, maybe even two. Being with Eric was dangerous because she knew she would fall for him, and falling in love had never really worked in her favor. She'd listened to logic, putting as much distance between his heart and hers as she could.

A lot of good that did. She'd fallen for him anyway – she'd fallen hard. It frightened her, the way her body and heart reacted to his words, words he had spoken to Dr. Marsh in confidence. Swallowing hard, she lifted a shaky hand and ran it through her blonde locks, a nervous habit of hers. As her heart pounded loudly against her chest, Calleigh slowly turned the page, her breath eluding her once more as she found her name again, this time adorning the top of the page as an underlined title. A quick flip through the rest of the file revealed other pages like that – the shooting, work, family – ideas that defined a significant piece of who he was; the most important parts of his life, whether he'd chosen for them to be or not. It took Calleigh's breath away that he'd consider her one of those most important parts.

Her veins infused with adrenaline and anticipation, Calleigh allowed her eyes to fully take in the words on "her" page. It began with a history of their friendship – a rather detailed history, she realized with a shock. Conversations that she'd written off as little, nothing conversations and forgotten about were right there, once more in front of her eyes. Her heart fluttered erratically, but she was beyond caring about the disjointed rhythm – her heart knew what it wanted, and her mind had surrendered to that.

Furrowing her brow, Calleigh couldn't stop the bitter taste that formed in her mouth as her eyes took in a very familiar name – the name that was perhaps the root of her relationship problems; the name that had put both herself and Eric through more than a year of unnecessary heartache. She shouldn't have been surprised, really. Eric had never disguised his intense dislike of the other man, but still. Maybe she had successfully blinded herself into thinking Eric wasn't as hurt as he really was.

But as she read on, there was no way she couldn't see that now.

Mentions a Jake, but strays away from all discussion of him. Intense displeasure in the one mention of his name. Husband? Boyfriend? Whatever he may be to Calleigh, Eric seems to resent it greatly. Any thought of the other man brings out a bitter side of Eric, one I've only rarely seen in our sessions.

The way he speaks of him, it is almost with the same venom with which he speaks of the woman who sued him, perhaps even the man who killed his sister. He feels as though this Jake has become yet another in a long list of people who have taken away the very things he cares about most – in this case, Calleigh.

The interesting thing, however, is that while he knows Calleigh made a choice, he doesn't feel wronged by her at all. Only Jake.

There was more, but Calleigh couldn't make herself read it. Eric might blame Jake, but in the end, the blame was placed squarely upon her own shoulders. She'd hurt Eric, and just that knowledge was enough to tear her apart. He'd been hurt enough; he didn't deserve a broken heart on top of it all. And yet, that's exactly what she had given him.

She skipped a few paragraphs before reading on, but the words that greeted her there were no less surprising than anything else she had read. Once again, she saw their relationship compared to others that Eric had had. Calleigh had known him for years, but she'd never really paid that much attention to the details of his relationships – whether because they were of no concern to her, or because deep inside it hurt to think of Eric with somebody else, Calleigh would never know. But maybe that was one of her many questions that would best remain unanswered.

Has never really had a "serious" relationship - quotes longest as being a few months at the most. Preferred "flings" until recently. Sees a single positive in getting shot- it helped him to put everything into perspective. No longer feels "immortal"; knows that life is short and can end abruptly. He feels as though he was blessed with a second chance; a second chance that would be tragic to waste.

Has started to think seriously about his future, about settling down, but not just with anybody - he wants to settle down with Calleigh. Can see himself starting a family with her - has never felt that way about anybody in his life.

Is hesitant to move forward; afraid the depth of his feelings is unreturned. While he had no qualms about the immense danger of returning to work too early, somehow he knows that discovering her feelings were not the same would crush him.

Much more than a simple infatuation; the way he talks about her, the way he reacts at the mere mention of her name. He's in love with her.

Love.

Settling down.

Family.

The words spiraled in her mind, dizzying her with desire, with longing. She'd thought she was good at ignoring it, but really, when it came down to her heart, Calleigh wanted the same things as Eric. She wanted real, true, honest-to-goodness love. She wanted to settle down, to have a family. And it was no question who she could see herself having all that with.

And then, it seemed as though the entire room faded away into nothing. The tables, the papers, the case itself – all of it disintegrated before her mind's eye as every inch of her being filled with a glimpse of the future, a long hidden desire of her heart.

--

They both heard the front door open at the very same time, but Holly was, as always, so much faster than Calleigh. By the time Calleigh had made it to the doorway, the little girl was already halfway to the front door, halfway to the man who had just closed that door behind him.

"Daddy! Daddy!" The excitement in the little girl's voice was undeniable, her dark, wavy pigtails bouncing at the sides of her head as she skipped toward him. The smile on her face stretched from ear to ear, and as she stretched her arms out, Eric couldn't deny her what she wanted. Her smile was contagious as he lifted her into his arms, the musical cadence of her laugh – so like her mother's – filling his ears.

Calleigh watched from the doorway, a smile on her own lips. Her husband, their daughter – what scene was better than that? Holly was every bit daddy's little girl; she had been pretty much from birth onward. She idolized him, and nothing was more adorable to Calleigh than that. And Eric was amazing with her, just as Calleigh had always known he would be. It was perfect, her family.

Eric gave a quiet laugh, holding her with one arm as he brought the other to Holly's face. "What is all over you, sweetheart?" he asked amusedly, tracing a thumb over the smudges on her cheek. The question made Calleigh snicker; she knew exactly what was on their daughter's cheek, not to mention her fingers and probably her clothes, for the sweet, sticky substance had been on her own hands just moments before. But upon hearing the door, Holly had escaped from the kitchen before Calleigh could even procure a wet washcloth.

If possible, Holly's smile brightened even more at his question. "Mommy let me help make cookies!" she proclaimed proudly, her emerald eyes sparkling with delight.

Eric chuckled, immediately seeing in his mind the events that had unfolded that afternoon. "Oh yeah? What kind?" he asked, nothing less than genuinely interested.

Holly grinned proudly, counting out the different varieties on her small fingers. "We made some chocolate chip, and some peanut butter, and some sugar cookies with sprinkles, and…and…" she faltered, her forehead creasing in frustration as the last kind slipped from her mind.

"And some oatmeal cookies," Calleigh interjected softly from the doorway, a soft smile on her lips as Eric's eyes lifted to her, the love and adoration in them undeniable. It was unreal how just the slightest glance from him could have the butterflies fluttering within her, the world spinning around her. Add in the mere fact that he currently held their daughter, and the entire sight was easily enough to melt Calleigh five times over.

In her father's arms, Holly scowled. "Yeah, oatmeal."

Eric smirked, his eyes once more on the little girl in his arms, his daughter. "Hey," he objected playfully, tapping her nose. "What's wrong with oatmeal?"

Holly wrinkled her nose, and it was all Eric could do not to laugh as her displeasure played across her face. "Oatmeal is yucky," she proclaimed with such confidence in that truth. It was another trait she had inherited straight from her mother – when she thought she was right, she was right.

"I happen to like a good oatmeal cookie," Eric said with a grin as he gently lowered her back to the ground.

"Chocolate chip is better!" Holly insisted, and with that she turned swiftly to her mother. All the talk about cookies had made her hungry, even though she knew that the rule was no cookies before dinner. "Mommy," she whined, curving her lips in a mightily convincing pout – inherited from her father, of course. "Can I have a cookie now? The chocolate chip ones are cool now!"

Calleigh tried her best to hide a smile, though it was nearly impossible as she saw Eric grin knowingly. Eric would've told her to go ahead and eat all the cookies she wanted. "Holly," she replied, knowing one of them had to be the parent. "I don't want you to ruin your supper."

"But I just want one!" Holly insisted. "Please?"

Grinning widely, Eric made his way over to them, gently ruffling Holly's dark hair. "One cookie won't ruin her supper," he said, his eyes twinkling.

Calleigh attempted to narrow her eyes, though the twitch of her lips rendered that useless. "You're not helping," she accused playfully, glancing from him back to their daughter. Between Eric's smirk and Holly's pout, Calleigh was defenseless. Shaking her head amusedly, she sighed deeply, stepping slowly out of the doorway. "Just one," she reminded, hoping her eyes conveyed a sense of authority. "From the jar on the table, Holly. I don't want you burning yourself if the others are still warm."

Holly gave a victorious cheer and skipped her way into the kitchen as Calleigh stood in the doorway, watching her every move. Like a good girl, she sat down at the table before reaching for the jar, taking out a single cookie – even though Calleigh could see in her eyes that she'd wanted two, maybe three.

Eric gave a low chuckle, and Calleigh turned, hands on her hips. "What?" she asked sassily.

"Nothing," Eric insisted, taking a step closer to her. He was close enough that Calleigh could smell his cologne, an intoxicating scent that drove her wild. "It just sounds like you had a fun day off," he remarked, loosely looping his arms around her waist.

Calleigh giggled happily, relishing in the feel of his arms around her. "Would've been better if you were here," she murmured, snaking her own arms around his neck.

Eric smiled, pressing a lazy kiss to the tip of her nose, an action that never failed to elicit a soft sigh of a giggle from Calleigh. With a smirk, he brought a gentle hand to her face, softly rubbing at a speck of flour on her cheek. "Looks like Holly isn't the only one wearing half of the kitchen," he chuckled, gently wiping the flour away.

Her smile widened as she laughed, her emerald eyes sparkling. "Yeah, it got a bit…eventful earlier. Cookies can be messy, apparently," she teased.

"Speaking of cookies," Eric murmured, playfully licking his lips. "When do I get one?"

Calleigh beamed, extracting herself from Eric's arms to reach around to the shelf behind her. "I brought you one," she said, holding a napkin and a chocolate chip cookie in her hand. With a grin to match the one on Eric's lips, she lifted the cookie, bringing it to Eric's mouth. "Open up."

Happily, Eric allowed her to feed him a bite of the small cookie, the sweetness of the gesture combining with the sweet taste of moist chocolate chips that erupted in his mouth. He gave a soft hum of pleasure, chewing and swallowing slowly. "Good, huh?" Calleigh murmured, her thumb tracing a stray bit of chocolate at his lips.

"Really good," Eric replied with a grin. "But, you know, I can think of something better…" He winked.

"What's that?" With a knowing grin, Calleigh once more looped her arms around his neck.

Eric didn't reply verbally. Instead, he merely tilted his head downward, softly capturing her lips in the softest of kisses. Their lips mingled slowly, the exquisite feeling pulling a soft whimper from Calleigh once the moment was over. "That," Eric whispered.

The smile that stretched over Calleigh's lips was a slow, delirious smile. "I love you," she murmured, each word cloaked in her thickened accent.

Eric felt his heart flutter just as much as it had the very first time she had whispered those words to him. "I'll never get tired of hearing you say that," he said, the depth of his love present in every syllable as he softly caressed her cheek. "I love you, too."

--

Calleigh was distracted, but by what, Eric couldn't immediately tell. Covertly he lifted his eyes, taking in the glossy look in her eyes and the slight flush in her cheeks. Following her line of sight, he saw the file in her hands, the almost imperceptible tremble in her fingers. Had she found something that might help with the case? Or…was it something else?

He cleared his throat, though the sound still was not enough to break through the fog Calleigh seemed to be immersed within. "Cal," he called softly, just barely resisting the urge to reach out to her, to touch her arm. "Find something?" he asked, even though he knew without a doubt she had. What, though, he wasn't sure. He just knew that he'd seen Calleigh's face, and unless there was another file somewhere in that stack that had the power to affect Calleigh like that, then he knew exactly which file she held in her hands. And while it frightened him, at the same time, it thrilled him. He just couldn't let either emotion show, not yet.

Calleigh breathed in sharply, broken from her deep reverie. The room slowly came back into focus – the walls, the papers, Eric. She felt his gaze on her, those intense dark eyes, but despite the comfort that she always found there, Calleigh could not bring herself to look into his eyes. Caught like a deer in the headlights, she slowly shook her head. "No," she whispered, knowing immediately that her voice was less than convincing. Swallowing hard, she gave a nonchalant shrug. "I think…this is a bust," she added quietly.

Maybe for the case, but to her heart it was anything but. The words she had read in that file, words that had once slipped from Eric's lips in a soul-bearing therapy session – they changed everything and Calleigh knew it. The evidence was indisputable, and Calleigh had just enough CSI in her blood to know she wouldn't - couldn't - rest until she acted on that evidence.

Could she walk out of this room today and not want to go home with him? Could she possibly not want to be with him after this?

No.

His words – his secrets – had awoken an emotion within her, something that felt so foreign, yet much too familiar to be something new. The only explanation that made sense was that it was something that had always been there, something that had lain dormant for years and years, rising to life only when the time was right. It was stronger than ever, and knowing the very depths of Eric's soul had in essence been bared to her, Calleigh could not push that away.

The farthest reaches of his heart had been revealed to her, inflicting her own heart with a deep, throbbing, empty ache.

And Calleigh knew that the only place she could ever hope to find refuge from that debilitating ache was within the warmth and comfort of Eric's arms.