Author's note: I'm sorry it's been so long since I updated. School's been…hectic to say the least. Anyway, I hope you like SOME of it, at least. Let me know. Also, I had a major case of writer's block, and decided that the only way to get this chapter to work is to do most of it in retrospect. Stuff in italics already happened. Flashback, you know. So, enjoy. And review. Don't forget that last part.
Calleigh shifted uncomfortably in the airplane seat, stretching her stiff neck and sighing. Glancing at her watch she groaned, seeing there was another hour before her arrival. She'd spent the layover in Atlanta in a daze, wandering around the terminal looking for…something. She wasn't sure what. When the plane finally started boarding she'd almost missed it, the haze around her so thick that she didn't hear the first announcement. Or second. Or fifth, for that matter. Staring blankly out the window at the thick blanket of clouds below her, she drifted back to her dinner with Eric. He had insisted on taking her for a real, sit-down dinner, even though she didn't feel like eating much.
"You sure you're okay?" He was staring at her now, brows knitted in concern. Concern for her. It made her breath catch in her throat.
"Yeah, yeah." She attempted to assure him, although she wondered briefly why she bothered. He wouldn't believe her. Damn that newfound revelation of hers and his freakish ability to see straight through all her defenses. No. Not damn him. Bless him. But it certainly didn't make things easier. Vulnerability was synonymous with weakness in her vocabulary, and anyone who knew Calleigh Duquesne for more than five minutes knew that she did NOT do weakness well. Hell, she didn't do weakness at all. Even after her kidnapping she'd tried to push him away, only allowing him to invade her personal space when he'd admitted that HE was not okay. He knew, SHE knew, that she could never deny him, not when he needed…anything.
"Calleigh," he began. "It's me, you know. You don't have to pretend with me."
"Really, Eric." Her protests were even weak to her ears now.
"Calleigh." He breathed it as much as he spoke it. Pleading with her to open up to him, let him in. Let him carry some of her burden, ease the load of it.
"Eric, I just…" Faltering, she stopped and took a deep breath. "I can't do this. Not here. Not today."
"You'll tell me, then?" He covered her small hand with his. "You know, if there's anything you need? If you need to talk? Or, you know, whatever?" He was rambling now. Nervous. She could feel the pulse of his thumb as he gently stroked the back of her hand. She studied the contrast, his larger tanned hand on her small, pale one.
"Cal?"
Private thoughts brought to an abrupt end, she looked up startled. "Cal?"
"Yeah." His fingers had laced themselves through hers somehow. When had that happened? She was sure she'd been paying attention, the contact between them was sending shivers down the back of her spine, and a blush to her cheeks. She glanced toward the ceiling, searching for lighting, and hoping it was dim enough to hide her now reddened complexion.
"Yeah?" He prompted.
"I'll let you know." She said it too sharply, and he withdrew his hand, misunderstanding her meaning. "No, I mean, thank you. I'll call you. When I'm ready to deal with all…this." She made a sweeping gesture with her arm, hoping he wouldn't know that she had included HIM in the "this" part of the comment. If he caught on, though, he made no indication.
"Promise?" He tilted his head, searching her for signs of the evasion and defense she had mastered so long ago.
"I promise." She smiled at him, and impulsively reacher HER hand out this time to take his. He curled his fingers around hers, and they had just SAT there. Silently. Saying everything, and nothing, and all that lies in between. Only the connection of their hands was speaking, and it was screaming in their ears. She had only just worked up the courage to speak again, when the overly perky, and, in Calleigh's opinion, WAY too flirtacious waitress made her way back to their table, ruining the tender, private moment.
"Are y'all gonna want some desert?" An overly perky waitress kept up her attempts to get the twosome to order more, and thereby earning her a larger tip.
"None for me, thank you." Calleigh smiled politely and withdrew her hand.
"Two orders of tiramisu to go." Eric ordered, ignoring her refusal. "And a to-go box."
"Eric, I really don't want anything."
"It's my treat. Take it with you." He suggested. "You might get hungry, and the three little pretzels you get from airlines now won't be enough. Besides, you barely touched your dinner."
He was right. She'd tried it, and it was fantastic as promised, but mostly, she'd pushed it back and forth across her plate with her fork.
"It's really not necessary." She protested. "You've already gone out of your way, drove me home, here, to the airport. It's not necessary." She repeated.
"I want to." Eric attempted to catch her eye. "Besides, what are friends for?" He tried to keep things upbeat, this day had to be hard on her.
"Eric, I…"
He cut her off. "The only thing you need to say is – No. Wait. You don't need to say anything. Just accept it. That's it."
She raised her head slowly and finally met his gaze, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Well, thank you, then." She half whispered. He was being too sweet to her today. If she was really honest with herself, he was always this sweet. Or at least he tried to be. Calleigh knew she pushed him away, kept him at arms length when he tried to be sweet to her. But she just couldn't risk it. She couldn't risk…what might happen. She figured that he thought she was scared of what might happen if they didn't work out. It really was the opposite fear, though. She was terrified of what might happen if they DID make it. She only allowed her mind to drift to THOSE places when she was WAY too tired to think straight, alone in her apartment, and curled up alone on the sofa with a pint of chunky monkey ice cream.
She was so deep in thought that she didn't notice the single tear that escaped her tightly managed control and make its way slowly down her cheek. That tear did not go unnoticed by Eric, however. He gently reached out a hand and wiped away the tear as it made its way down to her chin. Her eyes focused on his once more, questioning this time. And something else that he couldn't identify. He looked into her eyes trying to classify what he saw in there, but the moment was broken by that annoyingly perky waitress.
"Okay, handsome." She placed both boxes in front of him and rubbed his bicep. "Here you go! Can I get you anything else?" She ignored Calleigh this time, but Eric's focus was still on her face, watching as that unqualified emotion behind her eyes clouded over temporarily with what looked like jealously. He grinned internally. Calleigh was jealous!
"We're fine, thank you." He made a point to emphasize the "we're" part of that statement. "Can I just get the check?" He noticed how Calleigh's eyes brightened just a hare as she saw the waitress walk away, deflated.
"I'm paying for my own meal." She announced, unnerved by the way he kept looking at her.
"Nope." He grabbed the bill away from her as she reached for it. "I said it was my treat."
"No." She countered. "You said desert was you're treat. I pay for my own meal."
"Not today." On a different day, a day when she wasn't on her way to her father's funeral, she would have been undone by that smile, those eyes. Their effect on her today was minimal, however, but she did take a mental picture to file away to ponder later. She did not have the mental energy to think about…them. If he could have this effect on her just holding her hand…
She shook her head, and pushed the thoughts aside. This was SO not the day to turn into lonely, pathetic Calleigh, and it DEFINITELY wasn't the place. Her mind replayed their last few moments together before she'd walked into the airport. Eric had pulled the car up as close to her terminal as possible, and leaped from the car to retrieve her luggage from the trunk. She reached out, to take her carry on from him, but he'd outsmarted her, and used the arm to pull her into a hug. The second one that day. She accepted gratefully this time, clinging to him perhaps a bit too tightly in dread of what awaited for her when she arrived in Louisiana. She reveled in the strong, masculine scent of him. Clean and fresh and just…Eric. He'd boldly pressed his lips to the top of her head as he'd released her, whispering in her ear, "Call me if you need ANYTHING. Day or night."
She'd merely nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Grabbing her luggage she hesitated a moment, turning. "Thank you." Two simple words, but she knew that HE'D know she meant more than "thank you for dinner" or "thank you for the ride."
He'd only given her that cocky head bob he did when he was greeting his "boys," but she saw the flash in his eyes. He knew. He understood. He always did.
Calleigh drifted off once more to a restless sleep.