Chapter Seven
Past and Present
-

The dog days of summer had officially arrived.

It was fifteen past four on a sticky August afternoon, and the temperature had yet to cease its upward climb. Outside, even in the shade, it was creeping closer and closer to the century mark. There were no clouds in the sky, no promise of an afternoon thunderstorm to bring any sort of reprieve. The air around the city was still; stagnant, and the humidity was just as high as the temperature. The faint breeze from the early morning hours had long since died away, taking with it all hope of relief from this sticky, Louisiana heat.

And while the temperature outside was closing in on one hundred degrees, the temperature inside the walls of the firing range had already surpassed that mark. Calleigh could feel the heat pressing down on her, the humidity sticking to her. But she paid that no mind; there was a more pressing issue on her mind right now.

Defiantly Calleigh stared straight ahead, her eyes on the target, her hands steady about the gun in her hand. Her headset effectively blocked out any outside noise, not that she had any trouble blocking it out herself. When Calleigh had a gun in her hands and a target staring back at her, nothing could distract her. The firing range was her zone.

Forcing herself to ignore the stray, damp tendrils that kept sneaking out of her ponytail only to plaster themselves to her neck, Calleigh put all her concentration into the task at hand. As she squeezed the trigger, bullet after bullet tore through the target at the end of the range.

Her tenth shot ripped through the target, and Calleigh set her gun down, pressing the button to bring the target in to her. Taking it down, she inspected her handiwork, a quick frown forming at her lips.

As if to add insult to injury, her neighbor from the next stall on the range slipped over into hers, grinning widely. "How'd you do?" the cocky voice of Jake Berkeley asked.

Calleigh glanced over her shoulder. "Seven of ten."

Jake's grin widened. "Really? Is that all?"

Calleigh scowled. "Like you're Mr. Hotshot. What'd you get?"

"Perfect ten." Jake beamed.

"Liar," Calleigh quipped, rolling her eyes.

Pointing to himself, Jake lifted his brow. "Me? Lie? I would never!"

"Yeah. I bet."

Jake snickered, resting casually against the wall. "What'dya bet?"

Calleigh set her painfully imperfect target down, turning to face Jake. A challenging smile came over her lips, and she crossed her arms. "How about dinner?"

Jake laughed. "Perfect. I'll have you know I enjoy my lobster."

"Yeah. Like I'm gonna be the one paying for it," Calleigh smirked.

Snickering victoriously, Jake disappeared back over to his side for a moment, reappearing seconds later with his own target. "Ten out of ten, baby," he gloated, waving the target in Calleigh's face.

Calleigh stared. "You cheated, Berkeley."

"So I guess that's your reasoning for everybody that's better than you? We all cheat?"

Calleigh narrowed her eyes, biting her lip in annoyance. "You're not better than me."

Again Jake waved his target in her face. "The evidence says otherwise," he proclaimed. "And unless you're insinuating that evidence lies…"

This wasn't right. Calleigh was the Bullet Girl. This was her territory. Not Jake's. It wasn't enough that he'd beaten her on the last written exam they'd taken. He'd flashed it in her face, gloating about his perfect score, while Calleigh had sulked over her 97. The lone question she'd missed, she'd missed it because of Jake anyway. She remembered studying the material. She remembered sitting on her couch, her book in her lap. But the material itself was a blur, as all she could seem to remember from that particular study session was Jake's lips against her neck, suckling gently at her earlobe, trailing agonizingly slow across her collarbone…

Discreetly Calleigh shook her head, attempting to clear it. All that was beside the point. The point was that this was her specialty. She was supposed to be number one. With a challenging glint in her eyes, she crossed her arms, staring at him. "Do it again."

Jake blinked. "What?"

"Beat me again. If you can, that is."

"Oh, I can," Jake replied cockily. "I can, and I will." He grinned. "Loser buys dessert."

Calleigh tilted her head. "I thought we decided on dinner."

"Yeah. For the first bet. You know, the one you already lost?" Jake reminded her cheekily. "Now are you gonna argue with me," he continued, watching Calleigh open her mouth in indignance, "or are you gonna let me beat you again?"

Calleigh glared, turning back around and replacing her headset. "Like you can beat me again," she muttered, her irritation growing at the sound of his snicker behind her. She felt him disappear back to his side of the range, taking with him some of the pressure, some of the tension. Calleigh hated to be second best at anything, but she hated to be beaten at her own game. This was her game; her zone, and she was not going to let Jake Berkeley beat her.

However, her growing frustration seemed to cloud her eyesight. The added tension within her transferred itself to her gun, having a negative effect on her shooting. Her score did improve, but only by two. And that was still far from perfect in Calleigh's eyes.

"Nine?" Jake laughed right behind Calleigh, startling her. "And they call you the Bullet Girl."

Calleigh refused to face him. "As if you got a perfect ten again."

"I did." He smirked. "Mmm, I'm going to enjoy dessert tonight…" he teased.

"One more time," Calleigh demanded, already reloading her gun.

Jake laughed. "Nuh-uh, Cal. I've already proven I'm the best." Cockily he sidled up next to her, leaning against the wall with a smug grin on his face. "Besides, I can't let you keep embarrassing yourself," he smirked.

Calleigh gaped. "Embarrassing myself? You're the one who's cheating!"

"Empty allegations, sweetheart," he quipped. "That's all that is. I'm not doing a thing that'd be considered cheating."

"You're distracting me!" Calleigh argued, her cheeks flushed, both from the heat and from being flustered.

"And that would actually be your fault." Jake winked. "I can't help that you're so easily distracted. And besides, you love it."

Calleigh ignored him, turning her back to hide her ever reddening cheeks.

Jake snickered, knowing exactly what he was doing to her. He loved playing these games with her. "You know, we can just put an end to this and get out of here if you'll just admit I won," he suggested cheekily.

"What? I don't think so," Calleigh protested, though she failed to anticipate Jake's next move.

He slipped closer behind her, skimming his hands over her hips before looping them around her waist, pulling her against him. "Say it," he mumbled, nuzzling at her neck.

Calleigh tried to stiffen, but she couldn't stop the way her body reacted to him. Shivers raced down her spine as his lips traced over her neck, and she squirmed against him. "Jake…"

"Come on," he murmured against her skin, sending a fresh wave of shivers over her. "Just say it. It won't kill you."

"It might." Calleigh felt her eyes fall closed as a tiny moan forced its way from her lips.

Jake chuckled, the low rumbling sound weakening Calleigh's knees. She hated that he had this effect on her.

Nah, that was a lie. She loved it. Jake didn't have to know that though, did he?

"You know, Cal, the faster you say it and get it over with, the faster you can buy me that dinner," Jake said with a smirk. "And I might even settle for dessert at home."

She felt his fingers graze over her stomach, breaking her last bit of restraint. Either she was going to have to say it, or he'd have her melted into the ground before much longer. She squirmed halfheartedly, not really wanting out of his grasp. "Okay, fine!" she relented, continuing with something unintelligible.

Jake grinned. "What was that? I can't hear you when you mumble."

Calleigh rolled her eyes, willing to bet that he'd heard her just fine. "I said you win!"

With a triumphant smile, Jake spun her around in his arms. "Now that's what I like to hear," he smirked, lowering his lips to hers.

Finally, something Calleigh wouldn't protest.

..

It was a memory that stood out plainly in Jake's mind. How could it not, when it combined two of Jake's favorite pastimes - teasing Calleigh, and being with Calleigh? Despite the fact that it had been several years ago, Jake could still remember the day as though it were yesterday. It had been a time when they still had all the world ahead of them; all the time in the world. Things had been simple back then.

Back then, it was only them. Just Jake and Calleigh. Back when the only complications in their lives were set before them as paper or practical examinations. There were no dark shadows of past mistakes. There were no trials or errors. There were no suspicions, no lies; there was nothing to hold them back. There were no manila envelopes that upon being opened could decide their future.

But the past was exactly that - the past. It had come and gone, leaving them now in the present. And in the present, everything was different. They had made mistakes. They did have pasts that couldn't be run from.

They'd both long since learned the consequences of jumping headfirst into anything. Jake knew that Calleigh wouldn't be the same, carefree woman he'd fallen for in the academy. He knew that he himself wasn't the same person he'd been back then. Time changes people.

Still, even taking that into consideration, Jake couldn't get past the fact that something was off. He had known not to expect the same relationship they'd had before. After all, both of them were older, wiser. Things had changed between them. He supposed he should be ecstatic that Calleigh had given him a second chance at all, given the way he'd left things between them the first time.

But it perturbed him. There was too much that was different. At first, he hadn't noticed it - he'd been too caught up in his absolute joy of being with Calleigh again. When he was with her, sure, things were perfect. But if Jake was merely watching her; if Calleigh didn't know he was there, she seemed…quiet. Subdued. Downcast, almost.

She seemed to spend an awful lot of time just lost in thought. The Calleigh that Jake knew once upon a time would think as she was doing something. She might plan out the process, but she never let herself get lost in her imagination. She herself had called it a waste of time and energy, contemplating that which wasn't there.

It gave Jake an unsettled feeling, to say the least. Her behavior wasn't anything major - after all, people did need their own private time just to think. But for Jake, who had spent much of his life analyzing situations and the people in them, it was something.

The one thing that bothered him most of all was the way Calleigh would brush it off when Jake called her on it. He'd found her one evening curled up on the couch in her den. The TV wasn't on, there wasn't any music, nothing that she was watching or listening to. She merely seemed to be staring into space, nibbling thoughtfully at her lip.

..

Slowly Jake approached her, finding her inattention to the environment around her troubling. Jake knew he'd stepped on that one floorboard at the entrance to the den - the one that always creaked beneath his feet. Usually Calleigh realized he was there seconds before he even reached that part of the floor. But tonight, he had stepped on it, it had creaked like usual, and Calleigh hadn't moved at all.

"Calleigh?" Jake called softly as he slowly crept up behind her. Still she didn't respond, and he lay a hand on her shoulder, alarm bells ringing in his mind when she gave a noticeable jump. He'd startled her. The realization was one that startled Jake himself. When had Calleigh ever been less than completely aware of the situation around her? Other than the times when Jake was distracting her, of course.

But this was different. Something was obviously wrong here; something was obviously bothering Calleigh enough to distract her. And that bothered Jake.

He watched Calleigh give a nearly imperceptible sigh of relief as he moved around in front of her. "Sorry I scared you," Jake murmured, lowering himself to the couch next to her. He reached out, tucking a stray strand of silky blonde behind her ear.

Calleigh merely shrugged. "It's okay."

"It's really not," Jake replied, shaking his head. Calleigh gave him a puzzled look. "Something's bothering you," he clarified. "That's not okay."

Calleigh gave a small smile, though she shook off Jake's concern. "Really, Jake, I'm fine."

Surely Calleigh knew that there was absolutely no chance of Jake believing that. She had always been terrible at hiding from him. With a sigh, Jake let it go for the moment. He slid closer to her on the couch, gently pulling her into his arms. To his delight, Calleigh didn't resist. Instead she shifted slightly, snuggling against his body; tucking her head beneath his chin. Her head beneath his chin; her body in his arms - the fit was exquisite.

His arms felt so wonderful around her, just like they always had. She felt safe, warm, cared for... Calleigh couldn't count the number of times in the past that she'd always found all of that in Jake's arms.

The one thing she hadn't found though…it was the one thing Calleigh had always needed in her life - dependability. Sure, she trusted Jake; she wouldn't let him hold her like this if she didn't. It was just hard to trust timing. She had never known where Jake's work would take him in the past; she had never known when that work would take him away from her. She would never know if he was coming back to her until the moment he walked back into her doorway. The unpredictability, the lack of dependability tore at her more than Calleigh had ever thought it could.

She felt a stab of guilt every time her mind reminded her who had always been there for her. Who had never been involved in any type of shady work; who had been by her side nearly from day one. There did exist somebody that would help her up when she fell, if only she would ask.

Of course, the one thing she'd only seldom found in Jake…Calleigh knew she would find it in Eric.

Or would she?

Was Eric really dependable? Calleigh knew that, in his heart, he was. Calleigh knew that all she had to do was open up to Eric, and he would be there for her whenever she needed him. But it wasn't Eric's heart that Calleigh was concerned about. No, she was concerned about the bullet in his brain. She still wasn't convinced that he'd told her the truth that day in the break room. Would it forever be like that? Would Eric always feel like he had to lie to her about that? What else would he feel like he had to lie about?

And what if something happened to Eric? What if Calleigh couldn't get to him in time? Or, what if they were working a case together in some remote part of the Everglades, and something jarred that bullet in his head? What if help couldn't get to them quick enough; what if Calleigh could do nothing more than watch him die right in front of her? The thought sent an involuntary shudder through her body.

Jake tightened his arms around her, his heart aching. He wished he knew what was bothering her. He wanted nothing more than to make everything better. Jake hated to see Calleigh hurting, in any way. "Come on," he coaxed gently, stroking her back in soothing circles. "Talk to me, Cal." He felt her body relax in his arms, but he knew that the rest of her was far from relaxed. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Calleigh murmured, closing her eyes. She just wanted it all to go away, except for herself and Jake and this very moment. She wanted to bask in the feel of his arms around her, in his intoxicating scent as it washed over her, in his soothing words as he spoke softly to her. What she didn't want was to talk. Words were complicated. And Calleigh was so damn tired of complications.

Jake gave a quiet sigh, letting it go. He didn't want to, but it wasn't like he wasn't keeping something big from her either. He nearly gave a shudder himself as that dreadful manila envelope entered his thoughts for the millionth time. Though he felt bad about keeping it a secret from her, Jake couldn't help thinking it was the right thing to do. After all, he wished he could keep it a secret from himself. He didn't want it.

Pushing those unpleasant thoughts from his mind, Jake closed his eyes, pressing a soft, lingering kiss into Calleigh's hair, letting himself simply live in this moment. Not moments in the past, not moments in the future. This moment.

..

The more he thought about it, the more paranoid that Jake became. If he plotted it all out in his mind, he could pinpoint exactly when he'd started noticing the subtle changes in Calleigh's demeanor - it coincided almost perfectly with the day that he'd received that ominous manila envelope.

Jake knew that there was every possibility that something else might've happened that day. Perhaps something had bothered Calleigh at work; perhaps something had happened to somebody she knew, and that had her perplexed.

But nothing could chase the fear from the pit of his stomach. Every time he thought about it, Jake was that much more afraid that Calleigh had found that envelope. He was afraid Calleigh had read it. He was afraid that something in that envelope had damaged her trust in him once and for all.

And that was the only reason he'd ever opened that envelope.

The idea had eaten at him for days. He was worried that Calleigh knew something that he didn't; that she was pulling away from him because she thought he was lying to her, when in fact he'd never even opened the envelope. Eventually, those what ifs became too much for him. Jake had to look. Before, he'd been all but ready to burn it. Weeks ago, after that unpleasant encounter with the man who'd been his guide in the UC life, Jake had slipped that offending manila envelope into the pocket on the driver side door of his car, intending to forget about it, and then he'd taken Calleigh to dinner, just as planned.

But it was late one night that all the questions became too much for his mind to handle. After he was sure that Calleigh had fallen asleep, Jake had slipped out of bed and crept quietly out to his car. It was then, pushed by doubt-driven curiosity, that he pulled the envelope from the side pocket of the door for the first time. He was relieved to see that his worries were unfounded - the letter actually hadn't been opened, but by this time, his curiosity had gotten the best of him. Fueled by that curiosity, he pulled the contents from the envelope, reading them for the very first time. Three hours he'd spent, looking over it, letting it sink in.

And then he'd shaken his head. This is ridiculous, he'd thought, and angrily he'd tossed the contents back in the envelope, stuffing it back in the door pocket before heading back inside, forcing it from his mind once and for all.

But though he forced that from his mind, there was another issue that had taken up residence there. If it wasn't the contents of that envelope that had perturbed Calleigh, then what was it? What had her so bothered, so worried?

Maybe it was just her way of protecting herself. After all, Jake had hurt her before. He wasn't proud of that, not at all. He knew all too well that he was lucky to have her back in his life at all.

But if Calleigh couldn't trust him, could he really have a chance?

It was the latest doubt that had found its way on top of Jake's list of things he wasn't sure of.

It was those thoughts that plagued his mind on this particular sunny day. His mind a million miles away, Jake pulled into the driveway of a large, obviously well-kept home in the Gables. It was a good neighborhood; the house and lawn were both perfect, and it seemed like the last place where a domestic dispute would become a homicide. Three stories, a large green yard, white fence surrounding it - the only thing out of place about the house was the wide open front door.

Jake cut off the engine and stepped out of the car, slowly making his way up the walkway, led by a couple of patrol officers. Once they made sure the house was clear, Jake moved inside, immediately hit with the scent of blood. He followed it to a large, ornate living room where a young woman lay dead.

"Damn," he muttered, seeing the amount of blood around her. Carefully he moved around the room, avoiding the pool of blood, as well as the shards of broken glass as he waited for CSI and the ME to arrive.

It was then that he heard it - a small thump coming from the closet. It was faint, but it was there nonetheless, and it was enough to stop Jake in his tracks. Listening closely, he took a couple steps toward the closet, stopping as once more the noise sounded.

Drawing his gun, Jake slowly crept toward the closet, his heart pounding. "Miami-Dade PD," he called out. "Come out with your hands up."

There was a slight shuffling from within the closet, but the door remained closed. Jake waited another moment before taking matters into his own hands.

Hand shaking only slightly, he reached out and quickly pulled the door open, revealing not the eyes of a cold-blooded killer, but a pair of frightened green ones.