A/N: I'm having a bit of writer's block with Through the Endless Night, but I've been working on this story for about as long. I decided to see where I could take it before I posted it. Obviously, I don't own any of the characters, but I would be most appreciative for feedback—comments, criticisms, jokes, bring it all on. Well, here goes.

A/N 2: Okay, so evidently I'm having formatting problems…there were originally page breaks between the two POVs, (someone needs to learn to check her work after she posts it...)so let's try this again. Sorry for any confusion.

-------Calleigh-------

It was all a big mistake, and you aren't sure how or when it was initiated, but you find yourself wishing all of it could be taken back. Especially now, four months later and you're barely talking to each other, you more than he.

So sitting in your living room watching the news, you wonder if it was worth it. Your entire friendship for a night, merely a moment, of giving into feelings that have built up for five years.

You had something good. Sure you flirted occasionally, but neither of you wanted to compromise your friendship and professional relationship for something so transient, but that night was different.

You had something good, and you threw it away.

Even after your relationship with Jake was over, it was evident how much your relationship with Eric had suffered, and you both only hoped a night out could begin to pave the way back to the friendship you once had. So you did dinner and had planned to watch a movie, but that was before you both realized dish soap suds could be sexy.

The first kiss had been innocent enough, a kiss on the cheek followed by suds on the face, and the next thing you know, his face is moving towards yours, and you know his destination, but you don't attempt to stop him. Instead, you lean into him, allowing the kiss to deepen until you're both so far gone you barely remember leaving the trail of clothing from the kitchen to the bedroom. And it's sweet and loving and gentle but hot and almost more than you'd ever expected, and you never imagined you'd find yourself letting go. But there you were, and you no longer had any control of the situation and it could have been the start of something…

Until your common sense—no, your fear—got the better of you.

The week following was somewhat strained, but you fell into a pattern at work, and you were able to be professional and friendly, but as the weeks went on, you found yourself becoming more withdrawn, and you can't bring yourself to admit why.

All you know is that you have to get away from Miami…just for a little while. For once you're going to take the road less traveled and run away, but it's not running away. You're taking some time to get things straightened out, far away from Eric. Too bad you need a passport to go to Canada.

But you make a decision right then, and before you can change your mind, you dial one of many familiar numbers.

You wait as the phone rings, drumming your fingers on the arm of the couch.

"Yes ma'am?" He's fully attentive, and you feel guilty about calling him at home for something like this, but you go for it anyway.

"Horatio, I need to take some time off." It spills out of your mouth, words tripping over each other and you're surprised he understands.

"How much time do you need?"

Pausing to consider this, you would really like a good year away, and you wonder briefly why you don't just transfer.

"How much time can you give me?" your voice is unstable, and if you had known when you opened your mouth that's what would come out, you wouldn't have said anything.

And Horatio is a CSI for a reason. He's careful, but he says, "I'll tell you what, you have a lot of vacation days built up. Why don't you use those and come back when you're ready."

You nod, but Horatio can't see you so you mumble a thank you and end the call so you can make another.

-------Eric-------

You can't help but watch from outside the interrogation room. She's as on the ball as ever, but you can tell she's worn out. From what, you don't know, and you're almost too hurt at being pushed away to even care, but you realize this is Calleigh, and as far as she is concerned, you'll always care.

She's going on vacation—nothing stays secret in the lab—and you're angry, upset, relieved. All at the same time. You know this vacation is one of the many repercussions of that night, and you consider barging into the interrogation room and demanding you two take time to talk it over.

The night together was amazing, and you certainly regret taking things so quickly, but more than anything, you regret giving her a chance to retreat. It all seemed unreal, and you've almost come to the point where you wish it was. Almost. That night, you woke up to her fingers tracing patterns on your bare chest, you smile, "Hey, what are you doing?"

She sighs. "Just thinking."

You place your hand over hers, effectively stopping it. "Cal, I know we should have moved slowly, but this is more than just a one-night stand." Your voice is raw and desperate, and you pray that she can hear the sincerity in your voice. She's quiet for a long time, and finally, you lift your head to look at her, and you're surprised to see tears in her eyes.

"Eric," she whispers quietly, hesitantly, and your heart constricts because you can only imagine what's coming. But to your surprise, perhaps relief, she doesn't say anything. Instead, she leans in and kisses you, sweetly, slowly before stopping abruptly, and you can see the fear in her eyes as she pulls away from you.

And despite your quiet protest, she tells you quietly that it would be best if you left, but she's still drawing on your skin, and your brain is on overload trying to process the mixed signals. You know the more honorable path would be to leave, give her some time, but you wonder if perhaps honorable had been tossed aside with your clothing. You roll out of her bed, taking your time to admire her, and you're surprised your voice is shaky as you say, "Just take some time to process this, please."

But time doesn't seem to be on your side because the more time that goes by, the more she withdraws, and you're baffled at this turn of events. So you continue to exist in the same environment, and you wait patiently, hoping that if you stay still enough she'll come out to meet you. But it's tiring, and now that you're sitting outside the investigation room, witnessing the pissing match she's having with a suspect, you can't help but feel your hope waver. Maybe she'll never crawl out. Maybe all you'll have is that small memory of that time together.

But you can always hope.

A sudden movement from the interrogation room interrupts you from your thoughts, and you look up to find that the two are done. Officers are leading the man, now in handcuffs, out, and Calleigh is gathering her things.

You wait for her, and when she finally comes out, nearly bumping into you, you're surprised to see the confusion on her face.

Your mouth suddenly goes dry. "So you're going on a vacation?"

Calleigh looks down at her papers, and you can tell she's trying to distance herself from the conversation. "Yeah, I'm going to visit a friend."

"Calleigh—" but she cuts you off with a hard look. "When will you be back?"

"Soon enough." And she's gone.