Making Reservations

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize from your television set. I do own things you don't recognize from the TV

AN: This takes place concurrently with Engraved Invitations- it fills in some of the little spaces in that story. So, it's not so much what comes next as it's what happened at the same time.

The winter here's cold, and bitter
It's chilled us to the bone
We haven't seen the sun for weeks
To long too far from home
I feel just like I'm sinking
And I claw for solid ground

"Full of Grace", Sarah McLachlan

She cradled a cup of hot tea in her hands as she sat at the kitchen table and stared at the snow outside. It was mind-numbingly cold, and the sheer stature of the snowdrifts made her feel very, very small. Many of them were taller than her barely 5'2 height, and they looked so…permanent.

"Syracuse has almost the most snowfall of any city in New York State," Tim had told her earlier that afternoon. "There's this Golden Snowball award that the city with the most snow gets every year. Syracuse has won it almost every year I can remember." She'd just stared at him wide-eyed and shook her head. He'd shrugged, and said nothing.

Tim was currently sacked out on the bed in the guest bedroom. She hadn't been sleepy, but he had gone out like a light as soon as he hit the bed. He'd shown her around the house first, though, despite his tiredness, so she'd had a general idea of what she'd find in the kitchen. She'd made enough sweet tea in her life to be able to make herself a cup of hot tea, although she thought this might be the one of the first times she'd ever really had occasion to do so.

The warmth from the mug helped. She'd never been so cold that she hurt before. Now she completely understood why Tim hated being cold. Air conditioning was such a constant of her life that she'd never really seen why he had a problem with it. But even an air-conditioned room was warmer than it was outside right now. If she was half-aching from the cold, he must not be much better off. She was virtually certain she had a higher body-fat percentage than he did. It probably explained partially why he'd been so happy when she'd suggested coming and taking a nap. And it completely explained the number of blankets he felt necessary to have on the bed back home.

She was proud of him, though. Despite his deep-seated hatred for being cold and his understandable fear of snow and ice, he'd come through for Matt and come home. And then he'd even gone and visited Jason's parents, which had not been part of the deal, as far as she knew. Sitting in their kitchen and watching him fumble for words under their complete understanding and acceptance had been difficult, but enlightening. Tim hadn't spent most of the last twelve years flat out refusing to go to Syracuse because of his parents or his family. He'd been avoiding Jason's parents. The guilt was just too overwhelming. She hadn't realized that, until now.

How do people live here? she thought. She'd been in town for about six hours and she was already feeling utterly weighed down and depressed. Out of her element. Claustrophobic, even, and she'd never felt claustrophobic before in her life. It was nearly full dark already and it was hardly 6 o'clock.

Oh, come on, now, Calleigh Marie. Knock it off. It's nearly dark already in Miami, too- you're in the same time zone. It's just the clouds making it feel darker. Get your game face on, girl. Tim's likely to wake up at any time, and his parents could walk in at any point now. This is not about you.

But it was, in some way. In some way, it was about her. Her and Tim. She hadn't missed the way Lisa had inferred that she and Tim were a couple. She also hadn't missed the momentary panic and awkwardness that had flitted through Tim's eyes. It had been a tiny stab to her gut, but thinking back now, she wasn't at all sure it was what she thought it was. Her immediate reaction was that he was repelled by the idea- which had been her immediate reaction to his reaction to anything that hinted at a furthering of any sort of non-platonic relationship. But now, thinking it over, and thinking back over any number of small incidents since Christmas, she wasn't at all sure that's what he thought. Panic isn't the same as revulsion. She turned it over and over in her head as she sat with the rapidly cooling mug of tea in the coziness of the kitchen.

It was a certainty that she could read him better than she could have six months ago. Six months ago, she could sense when something wasn't quite right, but she could rarely tell how bad it was, unless he made it really clear by obviously not sleeping and not eating. She could almost never tell if he was happy (or, well, okay. She doubted he was ever really happy). Now, though…now she could tell exactly how upset or depressed he was. She could feel just how close or far from the edge he was. Thankfully, he was moving farther and farther away from that edge, but there were still moments that could be more than a little scary. But even those moments had become somewhat routine. They still scared her, no doubt, but it was a weary fear, and easily dealt with. Sometimes, though, he was still a complete enigma. He had a way of looking at her with a completely blank expression that made it impossible for her to interpret him. That was certainly not new. He'd always been like that.

But she had more incentive to interpret him, now. If nothing else, the past six months had taught her exactly how much he meant to her. The fact that she'd always had a bit of a crush on him was not news to her, and she could date that crush almost to the day they met. He'd been prickly and obnoxious almost to the point of meanness in those early days, but somehow she'd sensed that there was more there, and had managed to be patient with him. Her patience had been rewarded as he slowly relaxed around her. Later, she'd realized that the prickliness and obnoxiousness was due to his fundamental uneasiness about change and dealing with people he didn't know, and had nothing at all to do with her, personally. This had been confirmed when Sean Donner died and Megan left the first time, and then later, when Horatio took over and Eric joined the team; he'd acted much the same way, both times. Much later, she'd realized that it was more pronounced with her because attractive women made him nervous. She had absolutely no idea why that was, but she'd seen him flustered and tongue-tied in the presence of pretty women enough times over the past five years to know it was true. She wasn't oblivious to the fact that she was generally considered to be an attractive woman. She even agreed, most of the time, anyway. It was clear he did, as well, given how she could still flummox him at times, even now.

This had all meant almost nothing six months ago. She'd really never entertained the notion he might also have something of a crush on her; Tim seemed so far removed from the kind of flirtatious interplay she was used to with men who liked her. And besides, there'd been the small fling she'd had with Eric, early on, and after that, Tim seemed to be less likely to be drawn to her like that. Not because she and Eric had been sleeping together, but because he and Eric were friendly (or friends, later), and he wasn't going to horn in on Eric's territory. They'd never discussed it- the affair had been supposed to be a secret, after all, but it was nearly impossible to keep a secret from Tim. He was too damned observant. Thank God he was also the very soul of discretion. But it had been clear that he'd seen her as "out of bounds" after that.

And then John had come along after that, which had made her even more out of bounds. Tim had never liked John, but he'd never said a single word against the detective in her presence. John had made it clear that the dislike was mutual, but they'd never discussed it, either. Not that it mattered anymore. None of it did. John and Eric were both gone. She and Tim were still here. Over the last six months, that reality had become abundantly clear to her; not that it had ever really been in doubt since that awful day. She suspected that it was slowly dawning on Tim that any real impediment to a relationship was gone. And that realization was frightening him for some reason. But why?

She supposed that it might be because he was interested, rather than because he wasn't, now. That would make sense for several reasons. He disliked change, and Lord knew he'd had to deal with enough of it recently. He was also incredibly wary of romance. Again, she had no idea why, but it was clear to her that at some point in the past, he'd been bitten. Hard. The two girlfriends she knew about had been short-lived and not terribly intimate relationships. She'd always had the feeling he'd gone out with them because he'd felt pressured to by other people. She knew Eric had introduced him to one of them, and Eric could be awfully damn persuasive. She also knew that the girls had been the ones to call it quits, both times, and that he'd been more than half relieved, both times. It wasn't something she'd ever quite put together, though, until now.

The tea was cold now. She was all tied in knots now, and was wishing she hadn't come. There was no way you weren't coming, Calleigh. Even if he hadn't asked, she thought. He couldn't face this alone. But why her? Why had he been so insistent it be her?

A noise in the entryway to the back porch startled her. She looked up to find Melissa fumbling her way into the house. "Hello!" Melissa said cheerfully.

"Hi!" Calleigh said, equally cheerfully, even though she felt anything but.

"It's so good to see you, how was the trip?" Melissa chattered, as she bustled around the kitchen putting groceries away. "Where's Tim?"

"The trip was fine," Calleigh replied. "Tim's napping."

"Ah. I'm not surprised, I imagine today took a lot out of him," Melissa said, nodding. "Do you want more tea? I'm going to heat this up," she said, gesturing at the teapot.

"Sure," Calleigh said, handing over her now cold mug. "I don't think I did a very good job, though."

"Oh, that's ok, we can start over," Melissa smiled. "No problem. I know Danny will want some when he gets home, and I imagine Tim won't say no to a mug when he wakes up, either."

"Okay," Calleigh said. "What time do we have to be at the train station?"

"We need to be there by 10, so we need to leave here by 9:30," Melissa replied. "It's not a bad ride, really. I've done it often. Sometimes I need to go down to the State agency for meetings," she explained.

"You're a social worker?" Calleigh asked.

"Right," Melissa confirmed. "Someone had to get a job with benefits…might as well be me! I really love it, though."

"That's good," Calleigh said.

"Hi," came a sleepy voice from behind her. She turned and found Tim leaning against the door frame, eyes still puffy with sleep.

"There's my boy!" Melissa said, coming around the counter to envelope him into a big hug. "You look really, really good," she said, holding him at arm's length.

"Thanks," he said, blinking. "Is there dinner?" he asked.

"Are you hungry?" Melissa asked.

"Yeah," he said, sitting down across from Calleigh.

"There's stew I can heat up," Melissa offered, trying not to sound surprised. Calleigh wasn't. She knew Tim's appetite had been slowly, but surely, returning. And it had been quite awhile since lunch.

"Stew sounds lovely," Calleigh said. She was also getting hungry.

"Then that sounds like a plan," Melissa said, as she put the teapot back on to boil.

"Hi," he said, looking at her.

"Hi," she replied.

"Warm enough?" he asked.

"Mostly," she nodded.

"Oh, do say so if you're not," Melissa said. "We turned the heat up for you, but if it's still too cold in here, I can turn it up more. Or I can find you something warmer to wear?" she offered.

Calleigh shook her head. "No, I'm fine, really." Melissa was considerably taller than Calleigh, which would make it unlikely anything of hers would fit at all well. "Thank you."

"Well, we'll have something warm to eat and I'm sure that'll help," Melissa said, turning back to her cooking. "Tim, could you set the table, honey?"

"Sure," he said, pushing away from the table. He smiled a little at her. She smiled back. Game face, she reminded herself. But she was tired and hungry.

Melissa set a fresh cup of tea in front of her and she sipped it gratefully. She closed her eyes and listened to Tim and Melissa chatting quietly as the warmth from the tea spread through her. It helped loosen enough of the knots that she was able to smile genuinely at Tim when he sat down across from her again. This is going to be all right. No matter what "this" is, she thought. It had to be, right?