Chapter 22: Another Log on the Fire
As if sensing her anger and frustration, Cailin's phone rang. "Callahan," she answered without looking at it. "Uh, Cally, it's me, Jeff. Clarke."
Cailin let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Hey, Jeff. Clarke. You are a sound for sore ears," she said, trying to put a smile in her voice.
"Really?" he asked, letting out his own breath. He knew he was falling for her from some time, probably since the first night her gaze got under his skin and into his soul at 51. This fact became undeniable the night of the blackout.
"Yeah, really," she replied, not having to force the smile this time.
Clarke cleared his throat, "so I know you've been busy with the Keeler thing, but 51 has been working on building a new library for Cooper Elementary, so Molly's is doing a thing tonight to raise money for books." He paused, wondering why he was having trouble just asking her to come.
Cailin waited a beat for him to continue, feeling a little let down when he didn't. When she said she wanted to take it slow, she didn't know he'd take this turtle thing so seriously. "Was working on the Keeler thing, Belden still doesn't share well; but that explains what Dawson was talking about," she finally said, rescuing him from his silence.
"So you were planning on coming?" Clarke asked, trying to hide his relieved excitement.
Cailin couldn't resist a slight dig, "I mean, I suppose I could." She couldn't tease for long. "Yes, I am coming, Jeff. I probably would have stopped by anyway, but since you called to invite me, at least I think that is what this was, I will definitely be there. In fact, I might even go home to change first; which is a pretty big deal after the couple of days I've had, passing the bar up first."
Clarke laughed, "I'll be sure to appreciate your sacrifice," he said, thinking it didn't matter if she was wearing a trash bag as long as it meant he got to see her. Yep, he was a goner. "And yes, that was my bad attempt at an invitation, so maybe you aren't the only one bad at this."
It was Cailin's turn to laugh, "I'll keep that in mind." She bit her lip, wondering if she would regret her next words. "I'm really glad you called, Jeff, I know it's dumb because it's been like three days, but I've missed you." Feeling her heart speed up and not wanting to hear his response, she rushed out, "well, I should go if I'm going to swing by home, see you in a bit."
Clarke stared at the phone as Cailin hung up, unable to wipe the smile off his face. Something about her being flustered admitting she missed him was endearing to him. With Lisa he had always felt like he was an inconvenience when he was around. Not to mention he had missed her every second he wasn't on a call. He shook his head, pulled on a black thermal and grabbed his coat, hoping she wouldn't take too long to get to Molly's.
It was official, Cailin hated everything in her suitcases and it looked like a bomb had gone off. Was it possible she didn't own anything other than boring dark suit separates, jeans, t-shirts and button-downs? She let out a strangled cry of frustration, before her eyes landed upon a bit of blue lace. She extracted the shirt from the pile, normally only wearing it under a suit to court, a glance at the clock told her it had to be right for this occasion as well.
Clarke kept looking at the door, trying to ignore the disappointment each time it opened and Cailin didn't enter. He was positive all of Molly's could tell by his expression the second Cailin did finally enter, looking a little overwhelmed by the crush of people. He took her in, her jeans clinging to her in a way that made Clarke clench his jaw, her leather jacket fitting her in a way he wished he could. "More beer," he croaked out, making his way to the bar. He turned to intercept her, "wouldn't want you to wait for one of these," he said, giving her a smile as he handed her a bottle.
"My hero," she said, before glancing around. "Nice crowd," she said, trying to not be nervous around him or overwhelmed. That had been one of her biggest issues in New York, the crush of people everywhere, the noise, the ramped up energy.
"I've got a table over there, just be nice keep your 'Hawks bashing to a minimum," he teased, giving in to his impulse to slip his hand around her waist, feeling electricity run up his arm as his fingers touched the juncture of lace and bare skin. "You'll have to kick Casey out, though be nice to him too, I had to stop his head from meeting concrete earlier."
Cailin had to focus in order to speak, the heat of his palm making her acutely aware of her exposed skin. "That kid, man, he's been on his ninth life since middle school," she finally forced out, before concern trumped her libido. "How is he really doing, Jeff? I kinda get the feeling he isn't really giving everyone the whole story. Not that I am one to talk."
Clarke gave a half-shrug, "I don't know, Severide's been on him lately and he seems a little off; though with head trauma, it's expected."
They were interrupted by Shay climbing on top of the bar, ready to raffle off the tickets she had gotten as a tip. "Guess I missed my chance," Cailin said as they made their way to the table, "at least its only against the Penguins."
"Good thing," he teased, ignoring the smirk Casey was giving him as he introduced Cailin. "Duncan, Brent, this is Cailin Callahan, friend of 51, one of Chicago's finest and, sadly, a Rangers fan."
"Cal or Cally is fine. I come by the Rangers thing honestly, but you are the home team and original six, so I'll be nice."
"Nice to meet you, Cally, and you're cute, so we'll let the Rangers thing slide," Duncan said, giving Clarke a little eyebrow raise.
Matt gave up his seat, standing next to the table just as the winner of the raffle was announced. Cailin tried to surreptitiously move her stool closer to Clarke's, able to do so as everyone's attention focused on Hermann revealing he had, barely, passed the Lieutenant's exam. Cailin looked at Clarke out of the corner of her eye, knowing nobody else knew he had taken it. He caught her meaning, squeezing her thigh under the table, leaving his hand there. She bit her lip to stop smiling, happy for him and thinking it was sweet he wasn't trying to steal Hermann's thunder.
Matt excused himself, an odd look on his face, enough of one that Cailin leaned over and said, "I'll be back, I just want to check on Matt."
"I'll be here," Clarke replied.
Cailin practically cornered Matt as he emerged from the washroom. "Spill it, Matty," she said, blocking his path.
"Spill what, Cally?" he asked innocently.
"Jeff told me you almost took a header today not to mention I've heard how you keeping being weird at work and I can't help but notice your bleeding freaking ear!" Cailin hissed, not wanting to gain attention.
He pulled her around the corner looking at her pleadingly. "You can't tell anyone," he said, looking around.
Cailin gave him a look, before putting her palm up to show the scar from their stupid blood-brothers pact as kids. "Seriously, Matt?"
"I've had some problems since the accident, memory loss, anger issues, dizziness," he said.
Cailin took in his look of concern and gave him a small smile, "sounds like me on a good day," she teased, "have you told a medical professional?"
Matt nodded, "yeah, I told my doc, she says it is fairly typical." He paused, Cailin just stood there. "Except I pretty much can't let it happen again, or lights out."
Cailin shook her head, "Matt, why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you've been dealing with enough stuff on your own," he paused before sheepishly saying, "Coleman called me."
"Of course he did!" Cailin grumbled. "Well I am glad he did, because you weren't telling me!" Matt shot back, anger rising in his voice.
Cailin looked crushed, hating making him angry. "I didn't want you to freak out, I knew you were still dealing with Hallie and I didn't want to bring you down more!"
"Cally, we've been best friends our entire lives, you have been through some of my worst days. Why won't you let anybody help you through yours?"
"Because that is what shrinks are for and it's just hard to explain; the nightmares, the freaking out, being a zombie, just shutting down..." she trailed off, finally adding, "feeling like a freak."
Matt looked at her, his gaze traveling to Clarke, realizing why their connection was so instant, glad it was. "Clarke," he stated.
Cailin flushed, "I guess so, I mean I'm not a combat veteran but Jeff gets me, I don't have to explain. It's easy. Well, as easy as a drastically complicated situation can be."
"You seem more like you when you're with him," Matt replied, "and if he can help you get back to that, then you should see where it goes."
Cailin nodded, "always gotta be right, huh, Matty? Though I might mention something about your second chance with Gabby and honesty usually being the best policy..." she trailed off, gesturing to the woman sitting alone. "Did I miss something?" she asked, cocking her head.
"She bust her ankle running the smoke test, didn't pass."
"That sucks," Cailin replied.
"Which is part of why I haven't wanted to tell her about this," Matt said, tapping his head.
Cailin snorted, "that is just stupid, Matt, she's going to find out eventually and she'll be pissed if it isn't from you. Go, tell her, now."
Matt narrowed his eyes, "fine, but you better give Clarke a shot." He stuck his hand out, waiting. Cailin looked at it before she shook it. "Joke is on you, Matty, was already giving Jeff a shot."
Cailin arrived back at the table only to find Leslie Shay in her seat. She gave Clarke a smirk as Brent said, "don't go raffling these off, we would like you to be our guests at the game."
"Seriously, Shay, if you sell those," Cailin warned.
"Not such a Rangers fan now, are you?" Clarke teased.
Cailin rolled her eyes, "whatever, I just wouldn't want anyone taking advantage of them," she said before feeling her phone buzz, seeing a text from Erin Lindsay. "I should go," she said, "nice meeting you two, see you, Leslie," she said, waving to Brent and Duncan and giving her friend a quick hug.
Clarke slid off his stool, grabbing his jacket, "I'll walk you," he said without looking back.
Cailin stopped at the table where Gabby and Matt were at, giving him a look to which he nodded. She breathed a sigh of relief. "Gabs, I'm sorry about your ankle, there has to be something you can do, right?"
"Take the test again," Gabby curtly replied. Cailin did a double take, when she realized her friend was slightly cocking her head toward the glamazon that was standing next to the table.
"Er, hi," Cailin said, "sorry to interrupt."
"It's fine, I was just introducing myself to Lieutenant Casey. I'm Rebecca Jones, I was in the academy class with Gabriela, I was just assigned to truck 81," Jones said as her eyes flicked over Cailin with something reminiscent of a mean girl. Cailin had head about Jones from Gabby and could only imagine how her friend was feeling since Little Miss Cheater Legacy was assigned to 51. Cailin was about to feign politeness when Jones looked down at her saying, "you aren't a firefighter, right?"
Cailin felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. "Detective Cailin Callahan," Cailin said through a clenched jaw.
"A cop, really, wouldn't have guessed," Jones said, flicking her ponytail before zeroing in on Clarke. "Now you must be one, are you at 51?"
Clarke nodded, not enjoying the tension, mostly because he could tell Cailin was simmering. Moving closer behind Cal, ignoring Jones' outstretched hand. "Squad, Clarke. You ready, Cally?"
Cailin nodded, not wanting to square off with the new girl, but not liking the vibes she was getting off of her either. She nodded, "see you around," she said, striding toward the exit.
Clarke waited until they were away from Molly's before saying, "anything you want to fill me in on?"
Cailin shook her head, "nope, I don't want to cloud your opinion of someone who has to have your back in a burning building."
Clarke let it go as he noticed her shivering and put his arm around her, pulling her up next to him, glad to have the excuse. "Did you get taller?" he teased.
"Heels, a miracle I haven't gone ass over teakettle," she said, with a slight smile, nestling closer into his side. Clarke let out a laugh, enjoying having her against him. He nuzzled her slightly, inhaling her scent. "You look nice with your hair down; and before you say anything, I don't mean you don't normally look nice. I just mean this is different, not different bad or different good, so take a compliment."
Cailin let out a laugh, slipping her arm around her waist, "I'm not even sure how to respond, other than to say woman clearly have done a number on you, Jeff Clarke. And I wasn't going to say any of those things. I was merely going for something other than looking like I stole my clothes from Leslie's closet and lost my hairbrush, so I'm glad it worked." She smiled up at him, tilting to give his cheek a quick peck.
"It worked," he replied, pausing to lean down to fully kiss her before continuing their walk. "Though speaking of Shay, don't think I didn't notice that smirk, Callahan."
"I have no clue what you're talking about."
"Brent and Duncan, the owners tickets," Clarke said, "did you seriously think I didn't have tickets?"
Cailin gave him a look. "Well, I figured you had tickets," she said.
He returned the look. "Cally, really?"
"Really, what?" she asked, wondering why he seemed exasperated.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. Maybe he hadn't made it clear that despite agreeing to take it slow, he wasn't planning on taking it any speed with anyone else. "You do know you're coming with me, right?"
She shrugged, shuffling her feet a bit as she looked down at them. "I mean I don't want to presume anything," she mumbled.
He groaned, pulling her to him and kissing her before replying, "you are killing me, Cal. Why wouldn't I take you?"
She looked up at him genuinely. "I mean, I'm a cop, I could have to cancel, so why not take one of the guys? Or maybe a girl less, well, me than me," she admitted.
"Cally," he said, in that growling way that made her toes curl, "I know you are a cop, I know neither of us have normal schedules, that doesn't mean that you aren't my first choice. You, Cailin Callahan, are exactly the kind of girl I would want to take, anywhere." As she gazed up at him, her eyes had a light in them that caused his chest to constrict.
She rose up, putting her arms around his neck and leaning her forehead against his, "in that case, I'm looking forward to it, Jeff, really."
Their kiss somehow both heated and sweet, leaving them both breathless in front of the building. "Don't make me eat crow about going slow," Cailin said as she wriggled out of his arms.
Clarke somehow forced himself to say, "still your ball and court, Cally." He paused, forcing himself to widen the distance between them. "I am going to get to see you before that game, right?"
"I damn well hope so," Cailin said, briefly closing the distance, giving him one more kiss before adjusting her usual farewell to, "see you, soon, Clarke."
Chapter 23: Crash and Burn
Cailin was beginning to think the universe was against her ever seeing Clarke again. They had made a handful of plans, including the hockey game and sort of dates; all of which Cally had to end up cancelling. Leads got hot, raids got scheduled, cases when to trial. Clarke understood, it just didn't make it any easier, most of their conversation was happening through text. Her complaining about Belden and venting concerns about Keeler and Clarke trying to cheer her up with anecdotes about 51. Which somehow made her miss him more. So, when Erin Lindsay stopped by her desk to see if she wanted to go by 51 to give Kelly an update, she didn't even look at Belden as she grabbed her jacket.
"This isn't going to go well," Cailin said, after Erin filled her in that Keeler was looking more and more like a free man. Cailin remained silent until they got to 51.
Cailin led the way, seeing the guys not at the squad table and heading over to the truck. The pair of women came up unnoticed as Otis seeming like he wanted in on a plan, freezing as soon as he saw them. Erin and Cailin exchanged a look. Cailin remained quiet while Erin filled them in, taking stock of the guys next to the truck. She knew without a doubt they were planning something. Her eyes met Clarke's for a moment, her jaw working before he looked away, refusing to look at them. Erin gave her firm warning, while Cailin remained blank faced, her blood boiling at the thought of Keeler getting off.
"So what are they planning, Callahan?" Erin asked on the drive back.
She held up her palms, "who says they are planning anything? I heard what you said, but would it really be so bad if Keeler had a little reminder that he should only pick on people his own size?" Cailin asked, her eyes flashing.
"You can't mean that, doesn't your badge mean anything?" Erin snapped.
"It does, but justice for victims means a hell of a lot more! Keeler is a worm and you and I both know it. This isn't the first time he's gotten off and he is just going to keep escalating until someone lets him know he can't just do whatever he wants. If we can't do that with a badge..." she trailed off, her words sitting heavily. She rubbed her temples, "I don't know, Erin, I know we can't condone vigilante justice, but I can't condone Keeler doing what he did to that poor girl. What if it was your sister? What if it was you?"
Erin just shook her head, "maybe it is for the best that you aren't working this case, Callahan." "Maybe so, Lindsay," Cailin said, slamming the car door shut behind her.
That night's raid, and reason fro the latest cancelled date, was successful. Though an underage victim meant Cailin had to stay with the kid until social services came. She fell into bed, exhausted; only realizing she had missed Clarke's calls after her nightmares woke her up. They had plagued her since Jules' death and this Keeler debacle. When she called him back, she could immediately tell by noise he was at Molly's. "Raid ran long, kid involved, I didn't mean to interrupt," she said.
"It's fine, I was just grabbing a drink with some ugly squad mugs," he said, "and Otis. I'm glad you called back." He ignored the looks they were giving him, "just wanted to see if you wanted to catch a bite or something."
"Sure, I'll meet you at Molly's" she said, trying to pull herself back to the present and away from the terror of her nightmares.
Clarke could tell she had barely slept as soon as she joined them at the bar and that something was weighing on her. It didn't help that the guys all shied away from her, even as she pleaded, "I'm off the clock boys, already got kicked off the Keeler case as well, just here for the beer." It worked until Detective Lindsay came in, informing them that Keeler had gone missing, giving Cailin a cold shoulder, Cailin returning an equally icy stare. "I don't want to know," she said to them, her voice tight, holding up a finger, "but I wouldn't shed a tear for him either."
He could feel her trembling next to him, giving the guys a look, leading her to one of the few booths in the back. It afforded them the smallest slice of privacy. He tried to lighten the mood, telling her about the Connie and Mouch face-off over the couch and Jones' horrible attempts at cooking. She tried to play along, appreciating his efforts, though she still felt off. He saw her empty pint and offered to get them another round, quickly returning with empty hands as he slid next to her. "Hermann just floated the keg," he paused, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I could grab us something else or we could wait or..." he paused. Cailin looked at him, catching the expression in his eye, trying to discern what it was. "We could head out, get something to eat. There's a great Vietnamese place around the corner from my place, didn't you say you were still looking for good pho? We could get takeout?"
Even in her slump, her heart fluttered. She had missed Clarke; just seeing him at the bar had given her a sense of calm. She wasn't sure if he was suggesting takeout because he could tell she wasn't in a place to handle people or because he was asking her back to his place. She also wasn't sure how to handle the warm glow spreading throughout her at the very idea of the second part. Before she could over-analyze it, she nodded, saying, "yeah, that sounds great, I'm just going to run to the restroom and find Dawson to giver her a rent check."
"I'll be right here," he said, moving to let her out, giving her a smile and a small finger salute. She wished she had done more than throw on a crumpled pair of jeans and sweater. She walked up to the bar when she heard Rebecca's voice coming from where she just left. "I can't believe you are sitting all alone over here, Clarke." Cailin could practically hear the woman putting her assets on display. She snapped the pretzel rod she had just grabbed from the snack bowl in front of her.
"You okay?" Hermann asked, giving her a strange look.
"I'm fine," she said, hearing Jones continue, "oh come on, unless you're afraid of being beat by a girl. I don't think I've had anyone refuse me before." Cailin turned slowly, clenching her fists. She spied the other woman, lounging against the booth, a hand resting on Clarke's forearm, tossing her hair back, tipping her head back. It was then she turned to stare directly at Cailin, her eyes telling the other woman she had waited for her to leave the booth. Cailin felt like she was gut-punched "Hermann, give me a shot of whiskey, now," she said. "On it," Hermann said, immediately complying. Cailin downed it easily before she strode toward the restroom.
Cailin splashed cold water on her face, trying to get her emotions under control. She was stupid to think she could compete with someone younger, taller, prettier, and without the emotional baggage she was hauling around. Even if she and Jeff were on the cusp of something, how could he pick the shell of a woman Cailin was over the whole package Rebecca Jones. She ran her hands through her hair, pulling it back into a bun when it refused to be tamed. She caught sight of her scar in the mirror, the flush of whiskey and anger causing the white mark to stand out angrily.
Jones entered the bathroom, preening next to her, the metal medallion of her purse clinking against the sink and echoing in the bathroom. Cal stiffened at the sound, staring at their reflections as Jones spoke. "I know a great plastic surgeon who could look at that for you, went on a couple dates with him-"
Cal cut her off with an angry glare. "Spare me the buddy buddy act, Jones, I'm not a moron."
Jones at least had the courtesy to drop her fake smile. "Look, I saw you the other night in here with Clarke and asked around the house about you two and I can't figure out what your deal is. He is a an attractive guy and if you aren't taking advantage of the situation..." She dug around in her purse, calmly reapplying a coat of lipstick.
The metal chain of her bag clinked again, the light catching the silver case of her lipstick, glinting. Cailin's stomach dropped, part of her leaving the bathroom of Molly's and going back to that tiled room with Nansenko...Cailin clutched the sink, willing the world to stop tilting, panic and anxiety welling up. Fear of losing Jeff briefly overtook her panic. "I don't know what our deal is, Jones, " she replied shakily, her voice hollow. "We agreed to take things slow. I just have some stuff, I just need a chance..." She trailed off, lifting her head just enough to look at Jones in the mirror, haunted.
Jones nodded, looking slightly frightened, "gotcha, taking it slow. Just don't miss your chance, Callahan, because I will take mine." She strode out head high, while Cailin's last remaining strength gave way and she slid down to the floor, leaning against the cold porcelain bowl of the sink.
Gabby entered seconds later. "Cally, Hermann said you were looking for me. Did something just happen with Jones?"
Cailin opened her closed eyes, "I'm fine, got overheated. I've got your rent check." She pulled herself up, handing the check to Gabby, saying, "have a good night Dawson," before rushing out.
Clarke was still sitting at the booth, looking slightly uncomfortable. He looked up as she approached, breaking into that shy smile of his. "I think you and Dawson are crossing paths. She find you?" Cailin nodded, afraid to speak. "Is everything good?" he asked, taking in her expression, noticing that she was running a finger along her scar.
She half nodded again, clearing her throat and croaking out, "yeah, I'll be fine, but I think I need a rain check for dinner. I just, um, need to," she gestured, toward the door, her eyes growing wider and wider.
He recognized the look of someone trying to not drown in crushing waves of panic that blew in from nowhere without warning or logic, he just hadn't seen it so acutely on her recently.
She reached for her coat, hanging on a hook outside the booth, throwing it on hastily, even though she hated the idea of any extra weight on her. "I'm sorry, thanks for the offer, I swear it isn't you, I just..." trailing off again she gave him another wide-eyed look, "see you, around, Clarke," she spit out before practically running for the door.
The cold air rose up to greet her, the snow crunching under her boots. She ducked around the corner, resting her shoulder against the hard bricks as she fought to catch her breath. Oxygen out of her reach no matter how she gulped at the night air. She leaned forward, resting her hands on her thighs, held up mostly by the building. So many doctors said this was all normal; that didn't stop her from being blindsided by the panic.
"There you are. Hold on, I've got you," came Clarke's voice, calm and soothing beside her; picking her up before she fell into the snowdrift. Echoing what he had said the day of the train derailment. "You're okay, everything is fine, you just have to let yourself breathe. Look at me, Cailin," he said, one arm still holding her upright, the other gently nudging her chin up so his eyes could lock on hers. "That's it. Nice and easy, slow breaths, stop thinking about it, it's a reflex, remember?" He kept on hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring smile as he coached her, until the light crept back into her eyes and she took in a large gulp of air and held it, closing her eyes and letting it slowly out.
She opened her eyes again, looking at him with a mix of gratitude and shame. "Thank you," she said quietly.
"No worries," he leaned back against the building, forcing his posture into one of relaxation, despite his heart seizing up as he saw how much anguish Cailin was in and wanting to protect her from the crushing darkness he knew she felt. "That been happen again?" he asked in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone.
Cailin nodded, embarrassed, "since Jules and this thing with Keeler. I thought I was better. I'm sorry, Jeff, apparently I'm still a mess."
"Hey, now," he said bumping her lightly with his hip, "cut yourself some slack, Jones can be pretty terrifying and she wasn't even touching you," he teased. Making her laugh, which is what he wanted.
She leaned her head against the bricks, closing her eyes, slightly hoping to disappear into the snowdrift she was sinking into. "You must think I am practically schizo. I'm acting like such an idiot, I don't know what my deal is." She shook her head, opening her eyes, "look, thanks for the talk through. I'm going to walk to Gabby's, hide in my cave until I'm ready for the world."
"I don't think you are crazy or an idiot, I've been there. And I'm not letting you go back to your cave alone either. Come on, I'm driving you."
Clarke didn't just drop her off, he insisted upon coming in, making sure she wasn't going to fall apart.
"I'll be fine, Jeff, I'm sorry I ruined your night," she protested, sitting on the edge of Gabby's couch, feeling ashamed.
He sat next to her, reaching out and rubbing her back without thinking, happy she didn't flinch or pull away.
"You didn't ruin my night, you walking into Molly's made my night, Cal." He wanted to say more, but didn't want to make her feel pressure after her panic attack. She merely nodded, her jaw tight, he could tell she was still coming down and trying to not cry. "Come here," he said, putting his arms around her and cradling her; wanting to magically absorb her pain.
She squirmed slightly before giving in, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his neck before forcing herself to get it together. She pulled away, rising from the couch and gesturing to the door, "as I said, still a mess. You can go, I will totally understand if you want to pretend you never met me."
Clarke sat there, looking slightly confused before he rose as well. "I'll go if you want me to, but there is no way I could or would want to forget I met you, Cal. If you need some space, I understand. If you insist upon calling yourself a mess, so be it; but you are my mess." He hung back, wishing he could provide the same peace she gave him.
Cailin felt torn between her heart swelling at his sentiment and fear coursing through her veins. Every time she thought she was moving ahead, something seemed to set her back. Not to mention she was positive she couldn't win or even compete against the likes of Rebecca Jones. "I don't know what I need, Jeff, just when I think I have a clue..." she trailed off with a shrug, "I need to be alone tonight." She saw the look of disappointment in his eyes and was quick to add, "I wish that wasn't the case. Just like I wish we could get out schedules together or that I wasn't-" she broke off, not willing to admit she was terrified because she was in love with him. She took a deep breath, stepping towards him, reaching out and laying a palm gently on his chest. "I hope I still have your patience, Jeff, even though I know that isn't fair."
He worked his palm up against hers, threading his fingers through hers, before kissing the back of her hand and then holding her gently around the waist. "Still got it, Cal, and then some. I can see you are exhausted, you should get some sleep; dinner first, though, and something other than whiskey." Cailin nodded, entranced with his eyes on hers, his strong hands encircling her, keeping her grounded.
Despite that, she still nearly shoved him out the door; though she did pause, laying her head against his chest as he gave her one more hug. "Thanks for saving me, Clarke," she said, as close to admitting her feelings as she could get.
"Back at you, Callahan," he replied, giving her a smile that he hoped hid his concern for her.
Chapter 24: Blowing Smoke
Despite telling Clarke she needed solitude, Cailin immediately knew she didn't. She debated calling him, but was too embarrassed over her panic-attack and essentially kicking him out.
She sat in the dark thinking she might never be whole again. If stupid Jones' purse could give her flashbacks, what might be the next trigger. She had hoped in leaving New York she was leaving this all behind. Maybe it was just Katie's attack, yet she had worked with plenty of similar victims and it wasn't like Nansenko had actually...Cailin shook her head, looking down at her phone, Gabby calling to check on her.
She talked to her friend, agreeing to attend some tapas party Gabby was hosting for visiting family. Gabby tried to ask about what happened with Jones, Cailin changing the topic; as she did when asked what was going on with her and Clarke. Matt's health was a good deflect, Gabby needing to rant about his keeping it a secret.
She hung up, ignoring Detective Lindsay's texts. While she didn't think the guys had actually done anything, she didn't want to know and she wouldn't blame them if they had. If that made her a bad cop, so be it. Hadn't getting her cover blown, underage victims dumped, sold or killed along side her partner already proven that? Voight and Belden weren't exactly paragons of the badge and they kept getting promoted. So she didn't think twice about texting Severide to let him know he would probably be getting an invitation down to the 2-1.
She wasn't shocked when Belden called her into his office the next morning wanting to know what she knew about Keeler's disappearance. She looked at him, stone faced, replying, "Nothing, sir, I'm not working that case. Have you talked to IU?"
Belden's eye twitched. "I still know what is going on in this precinct, Callahan, even if I don't like working with upstairs. Don't think I don't know about your hose jockey friends down at 51, they started this whole mess in the first place."
Cailin was immediately enraged. "Excuse me, they started it? I am pretty sure it was Keeler who beat a guy because of something the dude's brother did, Keeler who put a hit out on Severide and almost cleaned Casey's clock, Keeler that Katie identified as her kidnapper and rapist. You want to explain to me why you keep acting like Keeler is the HMFIC?"
"Don't push me, Callahan. I am still your commanding officer and I will stick you down in the freezer so fast."
Cailin merely raised her eyebrows thinking cold cases were better than his threat of sticking her back in uniform. "Are we done, sir?" Belden nodded, glaring at her.
She repeated her performance upstairs a couple of hours later when Voight called her to the carpet. "Don't suppose you were at a late-night diner with Severide as well, were you Callahan?" Voight asked, as soon as she entered his office.
She drew in a quick breath, so Jay had told him about the diner and Clarke. She should have known, IU was a wolf pack, nothing would stay a secret. "I have no knowledge of Vincent Keeler's whereabouts or the circumstances of his disappearance, sir," she said, wondering why the man unsettled her into passivity while she was willing go toe to toe with Belden.
He studied the detective for a long moment, having read her jacket after Antonio left it on his desk. She had an impressive clearance rate, willing to go undercover for long stretches, using her young and innocent looks to her advantage, clocking endless hours until she got injured. She clearly had the fire, yet after his discussion with Erin, he wondered if it wasn't burning a little too hot. Voight knew that seemed hypocritical but he had years of experience of knowing when to tap the brakes. "If that changes, detective, your first call better be to me. Being kicked back to uniform would be a walk in the park compared to..." he paused, "just keep me in the loop." Cailin gulped, unable to speak. "And even though you aren't part of this unit, I am still giving you the official command to not talk to anyone outside of here about this case. Understood?"
"Loud and clear," she said, realizing she was shaking and ignoring the looks from everyone in IU as she rushed out.
Cailin was guilty relieved for an onslaught of cases keeping all of VC non-stop busy. This allowed her to ignore the texts from Severide and Otis, as well as keeping her mind off of Clarke. Which was good considering she was almost paralyzed with embarrassment over how she had acted the last time she saw him.
Clarke left Cailin's, or Gabby's as she insisted on calling it, feeling like it was the last thing he should do. He had already regretted letting her push him out once, though he knew far too well what it was like to try to put yourself back together after coming apart at the seams. He also could tell she felt embarrassed; so he didn't do more than send her a handful of texts over the next couple of days.
He wasn't entirely sure what had set her off at Molly's; he knew Jones had something to do with it, which is why he wasn't surprised by any of the Candidate's antics over the next couple of shifts. The woman had an edge about her, obviously used to getting what she wanted, yet somehow constantly trying too hard. It rubbed him the wrong way.
He wasn't about to press Cailin, guessing she was swamped at work; plus he knew both Severide and Otis had been down to the 2-1. He hoped she wasn't caught in the middle on this, the case had already spooked her enough. Clarke found himself wondering what details she had left out about what happened in New York. Nothing would change his opinion of or feelings for her, he just wanted desperately to help her heal, to feel whole again.
He still struggled with that himself. The night terrors sneaking in, reminding him part of him got left over in the desert; the intense flare ups of anger, though those had greatly diminished since being with Cailin, the occasional feeling of watching the world go by as though he were above it. Despite connecting to Cailin and the guys at 51 and moving forward, Clarke still felt like something was missing.
He tried to ignore his indigence at Hermann's announcement of a vasectomy, refusing to contemplate what that was about. Except he was envious of the other man's home life. Part of him had always wished for that; some of his motivation for marrying Lisa had been the hope they would be like so many other military families: a happy base wife and a passel of kids. He was now grateful that hadn't happened, knowing it would have been a trap of misery and resentment for them both. Clarke couldn't help wondering if the window had slammed shut on his ever feeling complete. He prayed it hadn't, for either him or Cailin. He shook his head, jumping to action as the call for a collapsed stairwell came in.
She wrapped up her last case, rushing to get to Molly's for Gabby's party. Somehow it had also morphed into an anniversary party for Hermann and Cindy, as well. She was trying to pretend she wasn't making an extra effort in case Clarke was there. Though as she removed the tags from dress she bought in-between calls, she knew she was. She was hurriedly applying make-up when Erin Lindsay walked in taking in her appearance. "Hot date?" she inquired.
"Just a thing at Molly's, Gabby's family is in town," Cailin explained.
"Ah, so that's why Antonio dropped that file on my desk," Erin said, before looking intently at the other woman. "You know anything about Benny Severide dropping by?"
Cailin slumped back down on the bench, rubbing her temples before replying. "Erin, I know you think I'm half-cocked, but I heard what Voight said and I respect him as a CO far more than my actual boss. I haven't talked to anyone about the Keeler case."
Erin cocked a hand on her hip, "I know you want justice for Katie, we all do. Have you ever considered that Keeler rotting in prison might be more of a punishment than the alternative?"
The question struck Cailin. She had often wondered the same thing about Nansenko. How much she would have loved to face the man down in court, even if it meant going over every last dirty detail, to know he would rot until someone stuck a needle in his arm. Except Nansenko had been nailed to the wall and Keeler was a threat; his hooks in higher-ups, a psychopath escalating. Those kinds of threats better eliminated. "Yes, Erin, I have. But I've also thought about the alternative, of the fall out when Keeler inevitably walks again; so maybe Keeler missing isn't so bad." The women stared each other down until Cailin looked at the clock, "I gotta go."
The party was clearly already full-swing when she arrived, people and music spilling out from the pub. She stepped in, feeling slight trepidation and definitely glad she had dressed for the occasion, though she still felt less glamorous than the other attendees. She saw Matt right off. "Hey, how did it go with Cindy?"
"Shockingly well, I guess after 20 years of marriage Hermann does know her after all," he replied with a smile.
"Good to know there's hope," she said, returning his smile even though she felt a bit wistful all of a sudden.
Matt saw her face fall. "Gabby was asking if you were coming, you should look for her and get some of the sangria," Matt said pointing, "oh and she's getting to take the exam again!" His excitement was clear on his face, she was happy for him and them.
Cailin made her way through the crowd, saying hello to the people she knew and forcing a smile to the people she didn't. She caught up with Gabby, but her hostess duties prevented her from doing much more than thanking her for coming. "Thanks for inviting me. Oh, and congrats on the exam Mulligan, you'll kick- ass, I'm sure," Cailin said, giving her friend a big smile.
"Thanks, I hope so. Heard things are busy at work." Cailin nodded, "you know it."
"Someone had to keep us safe," Gabby said with a sunny smile before looking around, "anyway, I should get back. Clarke's looking for you, he's over there."
Cailin forced her way over, taking in the women in their far sexier dresses and killer heels, feeling dumpy despite making an effort. The feeling exacerbated as she stopped dead in her tracks, seeing Rebecca Jones laughing uproariously next to Clarke, clinking her glass with his at whatever joke made. A dancing couple bumped her, causing her to lunge forward, right in Jones and Clarke's direction. Jones looked at her with distaste, Cailin bet the girl probably had never tripped a day in her life.
Clarke, however, reflexively reached out to catch her. "Making an entrance?" he said, giving her a smile as he righted her. With his hand moving from her arm to linger on her waist, he gave her a quick peck on the cheek.
She was able to smile back at him but only momentarily as Rebecca had already somehow managed to wedge herself between them. "You missed all the fun, Callahan, including the best cake ever," she said, giving Clarke a look with raised eyebrows and a mischievous grin.
Great, they had inside jokes. "I need a drink," Cailin replied, moving as quickly as she could for the bar. Otis swamped behind the bar, working all alone. Looking over her shoulder at the exuberant crowd, catching sight of Jones still flirting with Clarke, she walked to the far end of the bar, drank a slug of whiskey and dove in to help Otis.
She had just finished making endless mojitos when she saw Jones leading Clarke toward the side exit. "Of course," she said, giving in to Gabby's family who kept trying to get her to take shots with them.
It was forever before the crowd thinned. Which was good, because it kept Cailin busy enough to forget seeing Clarke leave with Jones. As soon as she recalled that fact, she reached for the bottle of Jameson, downing a double. She probably should have switched brands by now, but somehow that felt like betrayal. Otis gave her a look to which she snapped, "what?" which kept him quiet.
