Episode 1.06, Broken
"What about the guy in the Acapulo T-shirt? Did he give prints?" Calleigh asked, looking toward a disgruntled man sitting nearby.
"No, but I think we could arrest him based on the fact that it's a little too creepy to be in one of these places without a kid," Eric replied, giving her a knowing look.
"Could you hold my lifters?" she asked without a second thought, handing him the device in her hands. "Do you have any ridge builder lotion?"
"Yeah, in my kit," he replied, watching her release her soft blond hair from the elastic that had held it together, and he couldn't help but notice how it cascaded over her shoulders.
He removed a small bottle from his kit and handed it to her, watched as she dabbed a few drops on her fingertips. He smiled slightly, because he has anticipated her next move.
She picked up a clipboard and headed in the suspect's direction. Eric kept a careful eye on her as she approached the creepy young man and introduced herself, chuckled when she dropped the clipboard clumsily. He felt something else, too, a tiny little nagging feeling at the pit of his stomach, as the other man picked up her clipboard and gave her a not-so-subtle once-over, and when she returned, Eric forced himself to unclench his fist.
"Here you go," she said proudly, holding out the clipboard with a clear thumb print pressed onto the front of the attached paper.
"Very nice," he replied, offering a small smile even though the twist in his stomach remained.
-/-/-
Eric was going insane. He was sure that insanity was mere moments away, but perhaps the release would be welcome. He wasn't even sure why this feeling kept nagging at him. After all, she'd done that – flirted for evidence, that is – more times than he could count, and each time, he had sat back and appreciated the view of a Calleigh who let her guard down for a moment and had a little fun. It had always been nice to see this side of her; it made her seem a lot more approachable, because although she'd always been warm and pleasant around him, he'd seen what she could do, with or without a gun.
It was different this time, though, and he couldn't exactly pinpoint why, but he knew that if he mentioned it, she'd dismiss it, maybe even become irritated with him, but he had to try.
That was how he had ended up 'coincidentally' entering the locker room moments after she had. He tried to act pleasantly surprised to see her fumbling with her lock, but quickly realized that he was a little nervous, wasn't really sure how to broach the topic.
She gave him a bright smile though, and that eased him up a little. He turned to his own locker and began spinning the little dial. After pulling open the door, he turned around, leaned against the locker next to his and cleared his throat.
"Hey, Calleigh, listen, do you have a minute?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
She turned around to face him. "Yeah, sure, what's up, Eric?"
"This is going to sound stupid," he said, already searching for ways to get out of this conversation.
She frowned and took a step toward him. "You can tell me," she urged.
He took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm just, uh—" He looked around the locker room once, finally settling his gaze on her face. "This morning, at Zany Town, when you went to get the fingerprint from that guy, Brad." His expression turned expectant, but she didn't offer any response. "I don't like that," he concluded lamely.
She rolled her eyes slightly and returned to her locker, and he knew that she wasn't taking him seriously. "Okay, Eric, next time I'm going to check with you first, because it's 1820 and we're married," she replied sarcastically.
"Calleigh."
She looked up from her locker again. "You're serious," she stated flatly. She sighed. "Eric, we've done that a million times to get evidence from less-than-cooperative male suspects," she pointed out.
"I know," he replied with a quick shrug. "I just think it should stop."
"Why?"
"It's not your job to lower yourself to their level," he explained, wishing he were anywhere else but here. He wasn't sure what had prompted him to start this conversation with her, but he sure as hell didn't have the balls to finish it.
She stood up straighter and stared straight at him, a little disbelievingly. "My job," she emphasized, "is to keep the killers off the streets."
"You can do that without using your body," he replied pointedly.
She frowned. "This is about this morning?"
"It's about—" He sighed. "It's about every time you put yourself in danger like that."
"Eric, we both do that every day," she replied, surprise trickled across her face. "I know what I signed up for, and I know you do too."
He shook his head. "That's not what I mean."
She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her shoulder against the locker. "Then I'm curious; what exactly are you trying to imply?"
"I'm just worried about you," he said quietly, and it was rare for him to feel the little flutter at the pit of his stomach. He was young, still, and admittedly selfish at times, but he felt it, stronger than he'd ever felt it before.
She wasn't having any of that though, and she frowned. "No, you're just patronizing me." She uncrossed her arms and stood up straight again. "Eric, I don't want or need you to worry about me." She took a step back and turned toward her locker, began fiddling with her bag.
Though he'd wished mere minutes ago to have never spoken, he'd gone too far to stop now. "I saw the look he gave you, Calleigh," he said, feeling a little pathetic. "Maybe not today, maybe not all those times you've done it before, but I can't help but feel like one day one of them will find you responsible and take it into their own hands. I can't—"He trailed off and shook his head, turning back to his own locker. "Forget it," he mumbled indignantly.
Her head snapped up at that. "You can't what?" she asked, and it was so difficult to read her tone, difficult to tell if she was angry or not.
"Never mind, okay? It's no big deal," he sighed, frustrated that this had gone to hell. He had known it would, yet he tried anyway. He still didn't know what he had hoped to accomplish.
"Eric," she seethed, "this isn't about my safety at all." She paused, and the air around them seemed to become more dense. "This is about you and your male ego," she accused.
"What? No, it's—" He sighed loudly, and his next words were quiet. "I'm just worried, okay, that's it. Just worried," he emphasized, frustration evident.
Her face softened at the authenticity in his voice. "I'm a big girl," she said gently. "I can take care of myself."
He sighed. "I know that." He closed his locker, only realizing after the fact that he hadn't taken anything out or put anything in, but she didn't seem to notice, so he shrugged. "Look, whatever, just be careful." He looked up to see her staring back at him with an inquisitive frown on her face.
"Something happened," she observed. "Eric, what happened?"
And there was no getting out of that one. Leave it to Calleigh to be attentive even when she's got her back turned. He wanted to insist that nothing had happened, nothing had changed, but maybe… maybe something had changed. Maybe this something had opened his eyes.
He looked at her for a moment longer than necessary and slowly began to speak. "I have a friend. She's good-looking, smart, strong. She—" He smiled. "She reminds me a lot of you," he said, and she unknowingly beamed. "This weekend, she just, she got hurt. Not badly hurt. She, uh, she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, you know?" He took a deep breath and chuckled nervously. " I don't really know where I'm going with this," he admitted, smiling sheepishly.
"I think I do," she replied softly, and she was momentarily struck by this side of Eric that she'd never seen, though she was shown glimpses before that proved it existed. Even with that knowledge, she'd never imagined it to be quite like this. She ran her fingers quickly through her hair. "Your friend, she's okay?"
He nodded. "She needed a few stitches but she's a tough girl. She's lucky that the perp didn't try anything funny."
"That's good."
He nodded again. "Yeah, you know, I think you'd like her. She's actually staying over at my place for a while so if you—"
"Oh!" she said loudly, surprised, and quickly, her pale cheeks flushed with color. She bit her lip. "Okay."
"Is that—" He smiled, amused by her reaction. "Something wrong?" he teased.
"No. No, of course not." She laughed softly, but the embarrassment still showed. "I mean, she's your friend," she rationalized. "Not that there'd be something wrong if she wasn't—"
"Yeah, just a friend," he confirmed, nodding, and it was so strangely satisfying to see her a little flustered.
Was she jealous? She didn't seem the type, but then again, what the hell did he know? Maybe she had simply been caught off guard by the fact that someone was staying over at his apartment, but why should she be surprised? He frowned. Maybe she pictured him with strange women over at night, but he quickly dismissed that thought. He looked at her, and it was different, somehow. He smiled.
"Hey, you know that if, God forbid, you get injured and needed someone to watch over you for a while…"
She smiled back, and she really did look beautiful in that moment, even more so than usual, her cheeks tinted, her lips upturned. "I've got your number," she said, finishing his thought.
He chuckled. "Good, don't be afraid to use it."
Someone else entered the locker room then, and the two of them turned around to see Speed standing there with an expressionless look on his face. Speed's brows furrowed.
"Do you guys need a moment or something?" he asked, looking from Eric to Calleigh and back.
It was only then that Eric realized just how close they were standing and how compromising the whole thing could've looked to a third party. He took a step back.
"No, Speed, I'm done here," Eric said, turning to close his locker but it was already closed, so he cursed at himself and spun around.
Speed continued giving both of them skeptical looks. "'Cause for a second, I thought—"
"Speedle," Calleigh interrupted. "He was just leaving."
It was strange for Eric to hear her saying that, because it almost seemed like she was providing an excuse, like they actually needed an explanation for the innocent conversation they had. Maybe it wasn't so innocent after all? He gave Calleigh a quick smile and turned to leave the locker room.
Once past Speed and out of the locker room, Eric heard Speed ask, "You and Delko?"
Calleigh's response was distant, softer, and Eric couldn't fully make out the words, but it sounded like, "That's none of your business."
Then again, maybe that was wishful thinking at its finest.