Title: Wordless
Author: Lucy (somethingsdont)
Pairing: Eric/Calleigh
Rating: PG-13
Timeline: 7.13, And They're Offed
Summary: A box of truffles, a candid friend, and an implicit confirmation.
Notes: Fun little piece of fluff I suddenly got the inspiration to finish. (Yes, Sink or Swim had something to do with it.) Enjoy!

The truffles, she knew how to handle. That was easy. They were, after all, quite delicious.

Why she had a box of her favorite ones sitting on her desk with a tiny card affixed to the bow… that gave her a little more trouble. She couldn't explain the way her heart skipped in her chest, couldn't explain why her hands were shaking ever so slightly as she held the box like it could crumble or explode at any moment. She wasn't sure which she'd prefer.

She felt silly, having been staring at the box since she'd found it nearly ten minutes ago, but she couldn't bring herself to do much more than cradle it between her palms. She almost laughed. This was insane. She already knew who it was from, and it was a box of chocolates, not an engagement ring. She shouldn't have to feel guilty indulging in something she loved so much.

Just as she was working up the courage to read the card, someone barged into the ballistics lab, and Calleigh instinctively brushed the box behind a stack of paperwork. She turned to find Valera in the doorway.

Trying to act like Valera hadn't just sent her heartbeat skyrocketing, Calleigh smiled politely. "Get anything off the handkerchief?"

"CODIS is running," Valera replied, eying Calleigh suspiciously. She craned her neck. "What've you got there?"

Calleigh shook her head. "Nothing."

Valera took a few steps toward her and peered over the stack, catching the bow and the lid of the box. She grinned cheekily. "Ah, a secret admirer."

Calleigh stepped between Valera and the table to obstruct her view. "It's just chocolate," she dismissed.

But Valera, not so easily discouraged, rounded the desk and reached behind the documents for the box. She weighed it in her hand, her grin widening. "Who's it from?"

"I don't know," she replied, her too-rigid frame betraying her apprehension.

Valera gave Calleigh a pointed look and plucked at the small attached card, wiggling it slightly. Internally, Calleigh squirmed. Valera chuckled. "You don't know or you don't want to know?"

"I—" Calleigh hesitated. "I think I know who it's from, but I haven't looked at the card yet."

"Because you'd be disappointed if it wasn't from Eric," Valera observed casually.

Calleigh felt the heat rising in her cheeks. "I didn't say—"

Valera smiled. "How close am I?"

Calleigh nodded, a little reluctantly. "At the same time…" She trailed off, frowning. "I don't know."

"At the same time," Valera supplied, waggling her eyebrows suggestively, "if it is from Eric, you don't want to address the idea that he wants in your pants."

Calleigh laughed tightly. "Valera, he doesn't—"

"Do you want in his?" Valera asked seriously.

Calleigh peered down at the box before looking back up at Valera. She wasn't ready tackle that issue. Just the mere idea sent her senses into hyperactivity. "It's not that simple," she shrugged, resenting her own tone, her hesitation.

Valera gawked at her. "What isn't?" she demanded. "If you want in his pants and he wants in yours, make it happen!"

Calleigh bit her lip. "Valera, if I tell you something, it stays between you and me, right?" She hesitated. It wasn't that she didn't trust Valera, but the lab tech did have a tendency to get a little drunk and a lot blabbermouth, and this was a big deal, as much as she tried to convince herself otherwise.

Valera nodded eagerly, wide-eyed in anticipation. "Of course."

Calleigh took the box of truffles from Valera and fiddled with the bow, purposely avoiding the card. "I told Eric that I needed to hear it from him."

"Hear what?"

"It," Calleigh said emphatically. "Just… something concrete," she explained, "but I don't need to hear anything. I know."

"What do you know?" Valera pressed purposely.

Calleigh caught on. "Maxine," she reprimanded.

She raised her arms in surrender. "Hey, I'm just trying to help. If you know, then you should know that the look on your face is the same one he's had for ages; you've fallen as deep as he has." Valera winked on her way out the door. "Just FYI," she called out over her shoulder.

Calleigh watched Valera disappear, then looked down at the box of chocolates in her hands. It felt heavy. She picked uneasily at the card. Oh, this was absurd, she thought to herself. She wasn't that girl. She was independent and strong and could read a stupid little card without getting all worked up about it. She pulled it open carefully with her fingertips, her eyes grazing over the words.

Calleigh-

Thought you'd enjoy these.

Eric

Short and sweet. Simple. Something she sometimes wished their relationship could be. And maybe it could. Maybe she was just overcomplicating things for both of them. Maybe she could just walk up to him and kiss him and it'd be okay. She picked up her phone, flipped it open and closed it again. After work, she decided. She'd call him after work, which gave her all day to figure out what she'd say. Her eyes darted to the tiny card again. She searched the ink for any indication of his state of mind when he'd written it but couldn't get much.

A small knock at the doorway roused her from her reverie, startling her. She spun around.

Eric looked casually around the lab, though his apprehension was obvious. "Valera said you wanted to see me?"

Calleigh could almost hear Valera cackling in the distance. Oh, she was going to kill her. Calleigh cleared her throat. "She's meddling, but I was actually going to call you. Thank you for the truffles. It was very thoughtful."

He smiled, noticeably less tense, and walked over to her. "I tried leaving you a message but your voicemail was full."

His proximity was intoxicating. "You didn't have to go through the trouble," she told him.

He tapped the top of the box lightly with his fingernail. "They're your favorite."

"I—" She stopped herself. "We'll talk about this later, okay?"

He nodded. "As long as we do."

"We will," she promised with a smile. "Now get back to work," she added, showing him the doorway, "and scold Valera for me if you see her."

He grinned back. "I'll give you a call?"

She thought about it for a moment. "Wait for mine."

-/-/-

Calleigh gripped the steering wheel of her car tightly. She could still change her mind. She could turn back and pretend she'd never had this moment of weakness. She could just call him like she'd promised and have the same little heart palpitations she was currently experiencing but from many miles away instead of close enough to touch. But she wanted to see him, wanted to be able to read his reactions and watch the way his features shifted through a range of emotion. She loved that about him.

She pulled up to his condo and parked in one of the visitor spaces. It was dark outside, again reminding her that maybe it wasn't the best idea she'd had in a while. But with a burst of courage, she pulled her key from the ignition and slipped out, locking the car door behind her. She entered his building and headed for the elevator. The ride up to the sixth floor seemed to take forever.

At his door, she entertained the idea that he actually wasn't at home. Or he could have company. Oh God, what if his mother was there? She cringed at the idea of trying to explain why she was showing up unexpectedly at Eric's door to his mother. A call in advance probably would've done everyone some good. It was too late for that, though, so she took a deep breath to calm her nerves and rapped her knuckles against his door.

He answered the door a moment later. Alone. "Calleigh." He smiled, surprised but apparently pleased by her presence. "I didn't know you would be dropping by."

"Earlier," she said, calmer than she actually felt inside, "you said that the truffles you gave me were my favorite."

He offered her a confused look. "You were the one who told me that."

She shook her head. "That's not true."

He furrowed his brows. "They're not your favorite or you never told me?"

She frowned. This was a lot more romantic in her head. Fuck it, she decided. He didn't need these semantics games, especially not from her. He didn't need anything she couldn't give him. And finally, she understood that as well as he did.

The warmth of his body registered before the warmth of his lips did. She was pleased to find surprise evident in his reaction. It was far from perfect – both attempted more than either could handle – but it was theirs, and the intensity in that fact blew her away. It took a few beats to get into a rhythm together, and even then, she was nervous, and she could tell that he was too, so they fumbled a little like teenagers in the dark, exploring, discovering. She didn't know where to put her hands until he threaded his fingers through hers and rolled the pads of his thumbs against her knuckles, and she hadn't even realized that her hands had been shaking until he steadied them.

"You're my favorite," she murmured between messy kisses. "That's what I came here to tell you: I like you more than the truffles." Her own words made her laugh, but he grunted something she couldn't make out, and he kissed her with an unparalleled fervor. She didn't mind. Not one bit.

He pulled her into his condo and closed the door, pinning her against it. He breathed in, inhaling her scent, memorizing it, just in case. Of all the times he'd fantasized about this moment, he'd never imagined she could taste quite like this, sweet, and he wondered if she'd had some of that chocolate already. The noises she was making were his ultimate undoing; she was breathy and producing these soft moans from the back of her throat.

Her fingers detangled from his, and she brought her hand up to push gently against his chest, albeit weakly. He pulled away but couldn't help himself to another taste when he saw her there, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, lips thoroughly kissed.

When he finally managed to pull himself away, he ran his knuckles across her cheekbone and grinned at her. "I'm your favorite?"

Her eyes drifted open, and she chuckled lightly. "Eric."

He brushed his lips against hers. "You're my favorite, too," he said playfully.

She pressed her open palms against his chest. "I wasn't—" She flushed lightly. "I actually had something eloquent planned out to say."

He chuckled, taking the opportunity to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Hey, I'm not complaining."

She smiled, surprised by how easy it was, how easy he made it. Her nervousness was unfounded; his, too. This could work, and that brought a bright smile to her face. She brought her arms up around the back of his neck and pulled him closer until his forehead rested against hers.

"I wasn't confused about your intentions," she breathed. "I was just terrified of the prospect."

"I know," he whispered back, even though he hadn't been sure. Wasn't positive until now. "Still terrified?"

She smiled. "Not as much."

The two stayed motionless, breathing in the same air for a minute or two until he spoke. "Do you want to stay here tonight?"

"Can I without—"

He nodded; she felt it against her forehead. "Yeah, I'll play nice."

Her eyes opened, a mischievous grin spreading across her lips. "And what if—"

He interrupted her with a kiss, hot and urgent. Intense. "That," he reassured her, "can also be arranged."

She laughed, two parts relieved and one part anxious, and as he led her to the kitchen for a late night snack, she sensed the beginning of an incredible journey.

The truffles, she decided, paled in comparison.