Chapter 25: Light My Fire
It was at that moment Cailin realized Clarke was either still there or had come back. It was also the moment she realized she hadn't eaten and was more than a little tipsy. She felt her face grow warmer as Clarke made his way to the bar.
"What can I get for you, Clarke?" she asked, stiffly, wiping down the bar to avoid looking at him. "I turn around for one second and you disappear on me to tend bar," he said, his tone light but concerned. She shrugged, "Otis looked swamped, figured I would lend a hand." She hoped she seemed nonchalant, but she was dying of curiosity; had he left with Jones or not?
"Yeah, but..." he trailed off, was she slurring her words?
"You seemed rather occupied," Cailin said, the whiskey making her bold, her insecurities making her jealous.
Yep, slight slur detected, though he wasn't sure anyone else would notice. "I'll take a pint," he said, finally; trying to figure out why she had disappeared behind the bar and why her eyes were glinting with anger.
She poured his favorite IPA, sliding it towards him, their fingers brushing, her loosened tongue asking, "where did you go with Jones?"
Ah, so that was it. "Jones made me walk her out like she couldn't hail a cab on her own, and then she tried to make me get in it with her," he replied, shaking his head. Cailin's reply was a hiccup. He couldn't hide his smile. "Callahan, are you drunk?"
"A little," she admitted, ducking her head before chugging a water, feeling stupid and guilty. "But you didn't get in?" she queried.
He wrinkled his brow at her question, "in the cab, with Jones, why would I do that?" Cailin didn't reply, going through the motions of closing up the bar. Clarke knew they needed to have another talk about their relationship, going slow or not. And given Jones' near assaulting him tonight, he knew he needed to, very clearly, inform the candidate that he wasn't interested. "Cally, stop, Otis can get that," he said, catching her wrist. "Let's get you home, it's late." He gripped tighter until she looked at him. "Please?" he breathed.
Cailin nodded, unable to deny him anything with him looking at her like that; ducking back under the bar towards him. She readily accepted Clarke's arm, regretting mixing her alcohol, waving goodbye to the few people still left. Clarke opened the car door for her and luckily they were at Gabby's in minutes. Cailin feeling every last drop of liquor coursing through her veins despite being a seasoned drinker from a family of drinkers. She practically vaulted out of the car as soon as it pulled up to the curb, unable to handle being confined.
Clarke tightened his jaw, though he still followed her. He knew any conversation wouldn't be productive given her current state of inebriation; but he refused to let her hide, not wanting to let things fester. "Let me know if you need me to hold your hair back, Cal," he said, following her inside.
She turned enough to glare at him, "I am fine, Clarke, I'm a pro." Though she did walk to the kitchen to guzzle more water. She caught sight of the clock on the stove and winced, "damn it's late, and I've got to go back at the precinct to finish up paperwork super early. That's going to suck," she admitted, feeling suddenly awkward as he hovered in the doorway. "Want anything? Keep in mind I've not really been around the past week or so," she added.
"I'm good," he said, studying her, wondering what she had mumbled back at the bar. "You do know I never would have gone with Jones," he said, stepping towards her.
"I guess I don't, because I thought you had," Cailin admitted.
"Cal," he sighed, tensing his jaw. "I'm not going to get into this right now. I'm picking up a couple of shifts over at 25, so I'll be on back-to-backs. But after that, let's grab some dinner and talk. Somewhere other than Molly's," he added pointedly.
"Really?" Cailin replied sounding surprised enough that Clarke had to stop himself from rolling his eyes, instead pulling her to him and saying, "really. Now drink some more water and get some sleep, would you?"
She hadn't planned to go to Molly's the next night, in fact she had wanted to avoid the place entirely after getting sloshed there the night before. She also didn't want to run into Jones, unsure of her ability to contain herself. But between working the bar and drowning her sorrows, she had somehow left her wallet there. Otis had thankfully put in the safe for her and she needed to retrieve it. She was waiting for him return with it when Jones appeared next to her.
"Clarke's not here you know," she said with a Cheshire grin. "I am aware, I was just getting my wallet, left it here last night," Cailin replied curtly.
"Good to know you managed to have a good time last night," Rebecca flipped her hair, "it's too bad you came late. Or maybe it isn't, it was nice keeping Clarke company. You do know he almost came home with me, don't you?" she said, waggling her eyebrows.
Cailin wanted to call the other woman out, Jeff said he never would have gone with her and she trusted him; but something prevented her. "How dare you?" was her reply instead, slamming the side of her fist against the bar with emphasis.
To her credit, Rebecca didn't even flinch. She instead cocked one eyebrow and put her hand on her hip, saying coolly, "I told you I would take my chance. Frankly, I am surprised you haven't taken the bull by the horns. But maybe you are pining for Lieutenant Casey or that partner of yours back in New-" she didn't get to finish her sentence as Cailin's palm intersected with her face, the creamy flesh instantly turning pink. Rebecca's eyes grew wide and her jaw tensed but she didn't move a muscle.
It was Shay who intervened, pulling them towards the staff restroom, located away from prying eyes in the storage room. "One of you better tell me what is going on here because I am pretty sure the guys are ready to sell tickets to watch you two!"
"Ask her," Cailin said, jerking her jaw towards Jones, who was standing rather smugly, despite the imprint on her cheek. She wondered where the candidate had gotten her misinformation from. Not that it matter, but something about Jones bringing Doyle into this was more than Cailin could handle. However, it had also sparked something in her that was willing to fight to the death for Clarke. "I told you Jeff and I were taking things slow, I practically begged you to give us space!" Cailin's voice was low and hissed, anger practically vibrating her body.
"Oh lighten up, I was just having fun, you do know what that is don't you, Saint Callahan?" Jones knew she was baiting the other woman, but she wasn't expecting her to practically vault over Shay to try to get at her.
"Chill the hell out, both of you. Callahan, you are a cop, pull yourself together. Jones, you are a candidate in a bar filled with your superiors, act like it!" Shay demanded, giving them both looks that warned them to straighten up.
Cailin took a deep intake of air, pulling her hair back into its ponytail and tucking her shirt back in. "You're right, Leslie, I apologize. I shouldn't have brought this in here. I'm going to head out and stop being that girl." She glared at Jones with the last two words. "Have a lovely evening, Rebecca," she said, though her jaw remained tense. She strode out before the other woman could respond.
Cailin had almost made it to the door when Matt caught hold of her elbow. "Hey, where you going, Cally, I thought you were off tonight?"
"I am, Matt, but I'm not in the head space for people, I'm gonna go home."
He had a pretty good idea which person she didn't want around, but he also had a good idea what kind of bad head space she was in. "I'll give you a ride," he said, sliding off his stool.
"I am fine Matt. Besides, I think Gabby will be done soon." She gave him the same look she had given him their entire lives, the one that said there was no use in arguing.
Didn't stop him from wanting him to. "At least let me walk you out, Cailin, can you give me that?" She nodded, curtly, working her jaw.
He waited until nobody else around before saying, "you going to let me know why you almost took my candidate's head off?"
Cailin shook her head, feeling awash with embarrassment. She had acted like a middle school girl and for what? Because Jones had commented on Clarke's good looks and had flirted with him? He was attractive, she had witnessed plenty of women flirt with him. But usually it wasn't coming from some gorgeous woman stationed at his house or after she had pushed him away or when they couldn't get their schedules to sync. Not to mention the woman had completely disregarded her request, some much for sisterhood.
Casey studied her, unable to tell if her red cheeks were from the cold or embarrassment. "If you want to get serious with Clarke, that's fine, nobody's going to judge you. I'd be happy for you. But maybe you should talk to him instead of yelling at Jones?" He held up his hands, "food for thought. I almost missed my chance with Gabby because of my stubbornness, don't get in your own way, Cal."
"I know," she mumbled.
"Good, now stop picking fights with my people, they do well enough on their own," he gave her a smile and a quick hug. "Take care of yourself, Cal, get home safe."
"I will, Matty," she replied, giving him a hug before walking home
She kept busy at work the next few days; not hearing from Clarke, but not expecting to. Back to back 24s at two different houses meant he probably crashed out on the first chance he got. But late one night, she received a simple text from him: Up for a jog in the morning? -C
She briefly wondered if he had heard about her altercation with Jones and debated pretending she didn't get it; except she also had the day off as well and figured that was a miracle. Her heart took over her fingers as she typed back: Sure, Humboldt Park, sunrise. -C2 before she could second guess herself.
She met him by the field house, where he was casually leaning against the railing. Wearing only a light training jacket unzipped over his t-shirt, as though it were a warm spring day and they wouldn't be dodging snowdrifts on their jog. She had on every layer she could grab, even though he would probably push them both until she was stripping most of them off, trying to not show how close she was to passing out or vomiting at his feet.
"Nice hat," he remarked as she got within earshot, flicking the pom-pom at the top of her Rangers hat, "but don't expect me to save you when some Blackhawks fan comes after you."
"I can handle my own, Clarke," she said, stretching so she didn't have to look at him. "I know you can," he said, taking off; having already finished stretching.
She ran to catch up, and he thankfully slowed his pace. His eyes still focused ahead, though she could tell by the way he held his shoulders and was working his jaw that he was thinking. It wasn't until a good bit down the path after Cal was practically panting that he said, "heard you and Jones bonded at Molly's the other night."
Cal stopped short, practically skidding off the path. "Crap, did Matt freaking call you?" she asked, the cold air she was gulping stinging her lungs.
Clarke stopped as well, turning and giving her a small smirk, "Mills, actually."
"Damn puppy dog," she growled, yanking off her hat and unzipping her coat; her embarrassment and anger, compounded by the jog and proximity to him had sent her body temperature up.
"He's just looking out for her, he was a candidate not so long ago himself. Mills is good people, he reached out to me while everyone else at 51 was still wondering if I was a rat. So what exactly did you take Jones to task for?"
She wasn't sure how to answer and couldn't entirely figure out what he was thinking. Except his eyes were a darker shade then they usually were, like when his guard was down. She also thought she could detect the muscles around his mouth twitching like he was trying to not smile. "Is this amusing to you, Clarke? I make an idiot of myself in the middle of Molly's in front of half the PD and FD and you find it funny?"
He twitched his nose, forcing his face into one of seriousness, clearing his throat, "well, maybe not funny, exactly, slightly amusing. What I don't find amusing is that you have no problem telling Jones how you feel but can't seem to open up to me all of a sudden." He swallowed again, his eyes turning icy and slightly hurt.
Cailin felt like she had gotten the wind knocked out of her; seeing the look in his eyes wounded her more than if he had hit her. "Jeff, I, just...there's been something about you since I first laid eyes on you at 51. I wasn't sure if I could or should allow myself to feel that way about you, especially with everything with Lisa. But after the blackout, I knew I couldn't stop my feelings for you." She paused, "we've had this connection since that first day, I just couldn't quite figure out what this," she gestured between the two of them, "was going to turn into. Plus then I back slid and I am never entirely sure what you are thinking or feeling. Now Jones shows up all young and perky with her perfect hair and fourteen-foot legs and no dead husband- partners or panic attacks in social situations or PTSD related nightmares and how could you ever pick this mess over the pretty young thing?"
She took a breath about to say more but Clarke's mouth moved into a half-smile once again, his eyes darkening as well. In an instant he was in front of her, leaning down and kissing her, his mouth hot and open on hers as he moved them backwards off the path, through the snow, pressing her up against a tree. It was like that night at Molly's. But there was also something inherently different about it; as though they both were stepping off the ledge together. He broke off the kiss, leaving her breathless and blinking up at him, stunned.
"That answer your question?" he asked hoarsely. Cal nodded, unable to speak or formulate coherent words. "Good, then how do you feel about coming back to my place for breakfast, I make a mean omelet." Cal nodded again, dazedly following after him.
Chapter 26: Like a Burning Flame
They made their way quickly to Clarke's car, where he wordlessly opened the passenger door, grabbing her arm to stop her before she slid in. He looked at her, searching her face, an entire conversation happening without either of them saying a word. Clarke pulled her to him for another heated kiss; coming up for air with a smile spreading across his face, tugging on her ponytail and giving her a wink as she slid in, shutting the door behind her and jogging around to his side.
Both were silent on the drive to his place, each lost in their own thoughts and internal debates; knowing that they were about to cross a line, that it would be a point of no return. Cailin was trying to ignore the fact she was clad in ratty fleece-line yoga pants and couldn't remember the last time she had shaved her legs. Clarke was trying to ignore the fact that he was bringing Cailin back to the place he had bought with his ex-wife but glad he had taken Shay's advice on just putting things out there.
The traffic was light and the drive took less than ten minutes. Cailin looked at him in surprise when he parked in front of his building, realizing it was less than three miles from Gabby's. He shrugged and gave her a sheepish look, he hadn't revealed the location of the condo; she only had known about his bachelor apartment in Near South Side. Before Cailin could even get off her seatbelt and put her hand on the door handle, Clarke appeared to open her door for her. He put out his hand to help her up, pulling her close to him, heat radiating off of them both as he did so. He let go of her waist to reach for her hand, leading her up the steps of the building; trying to not fumble for the right key.
She followed him up the stairs, both still remaining mute, to the third floor landing where Cailin briefly paused; her hand clutching the newel post. Clarke stopped and turned. "Cally," he near whispered, his eyes filled with desire and questioning.
She looked up at him, wide-eyed and gave him a single, but firm, nod. He nodded back, putting the key in the lock of his front door; the click of the tumblers opening seeming to echo in the landing, speeding up both of their already racing heartbeats. He swung the door open, gesturing for her to enter. Cailin complied but stopped as soon as she cleared the threshold, toying with the strings of her coat hood.
Clarke closed the door, locking it behind them and hung his keys on the hook next to the door, looking at Cailin who was still hovering there. He looked at her with concern, starting to say, "we don't-" when Cailin stepped towards him, reaching out to grab at his jacket and firmly tugged him down towards her saying, "the tortoise wins every time, Jeff," before her mouth hungrily sought his.
He smiled against her kiss, before willingly giving in; tugging her hair so it came loose with one hand, while trying to shed his jacket with the other. It was her turn to smile against his mouth; freeing him from his jacket, before throwing off her own coat as they both kicked off their gym shoes.
Freed from their outer layers, Jeff tangled his hands in her hair like he had wanted to do some many times. He moved them back, his lips once again seeking hers, pressing her body against the front door he had just locked. Her arms wound around his neck, pulling him even closer as their tongues danced with each other, almost battling. He let out a groan of both lust and frustration as his hands roved over her torso, trying to figure out just how many layers she had on.
Cailin let out the smallest of laughs, wiggling out from underneath his arms so she had enough room to strip off the sweater and long sleeved t-shirt he had been fighting with. Down to her yoga pants with a tank top and sports bra, Cailin gestured and smirked at him, asking, "better?"
Jeff returned her smirk. It grew to a smile as he gave her a heated look and replied, "getting there," before encircling her waist and pulling her to him once again. It was Cailin who walked them backwards this time, toward the hallway she hoped led to a bedroom. She slipped her hands up under the edge of his t-shirt; marveling as her hands ran over his abs and then up his muscular back as she worked the shirt over his head and flung it back over her shoulder. "Better?" he teased, cutting off her eye-roll in response as he deftly removed her tank top and threw it in the direction of his shirt as he backed her against the hallway wall.
With a lot more flesh meeting flesh, Cailin felt the last of her inhibitions melting away under the heat of Jeff's gaze, mouth and hands. Like that night by Molly's, her legs wrapped around him of their own accord; though now he moved his hands to support her, walking them to the bedroom. He tried to lay Cailin down gently on the bed, but with her strong thighs wrapped around his waist and her fingernails lightly digging into his back, Jeff was at the mercy of much more base impulses. He tumbled back on the bed with her, their bodies wrinkling the previously military neat covers; bracing himself on his arms, not want to crush her.
He looked down at her; blonde hair fanned over the dark green blanket, lips bruised almost purple, her skin slightly whisker-burned from his two day stubble. He traced where he had marred her delicate flesh, looking into her eyes for any sign of doubt; where he saw none. They were instead darkened with desire to the color of sapphires, a flush rising on her skin like a contrail behind the path of his hand.
"You just plan on staring at me, Clarke?" she teased with a smirk, propping herself on her elbows.
"What can I say, it's a nice view," he shot back, sliding his hand up her side; his fingers brushing under the band of her sports bra, goose bumps rising on her flesh.
She responded by reaching between them for the knot on his CFD sweatpants, raising her eyebrows with a feigned look of innocence as she pulled it loose. "Oops," she grinned, before leveraging her legs and police training to flip them so Jeff was beneath her.
"Nice moves, Callahan," he said before quickly losing the ability to speak as she divested herself of her remaining clothing, his own following quickly behind.
Afterward, both of them were spent and breathless, splayed on his bed; the sunlight and radiator mingling with their body heat and making the room steamy. They turned their heads to look at each other and said simultaneously, "well, that was-" they both laughed.
Cailin felt acutely aware of her current lack of clothing, she tried to covertly reach for the sheet to pull it up over her, but it had tangled in the rest of the covers.
Jeff saw her movement, but didn't say anything, his eyes taking in her form, causing her current state of undress to seem all the more naked. He turned on his side toward her, freeing the sheet before looking down at her.
She took the corner of the sheet offered to her from him and pulled it over her, grateful. Not wanting to be embarrassed, yet struck with the realization of how long it had been since she had been naked with someone else. His eyes settled on her; once again seeming to settle in on her soul, as he if he could hear every thought in her head.
"You don't have to hide, Cal," he said, tipping forward to press his lips to her forehead. "How about I give you a minute and go make us that omelette I promised?" She nodded, feeling both relieved and a tiny bit of self-hatred for feeling overwhelmed; the rest of her admiring his body as he slipped back into his sweatpants. He paused on his way out, sliding open a dresser drawer and throwing a clean t-shirt at her. "If you want it," he said, before padding off to the kitchen. She caught it, transfixed with his form as he walked out, before curling up in his bed; forcing herself to keep her girlish squeal completely internal.
Cailin ducked into the restroom trying to freshen up and collect her swirling thoughts before padding out to the kitchen where Jeff was skillfully chopping vegetables for the promised omelet. Jeff refused her offer of assistance, pointing to a stool at the breakfast bar in front of him and telling her to sit as he set a mug of coffee in front of her. "Watch it, a girl could get used to this," she said smiling over her mug, still glowing. Jeff gave her an impish grin before returning to the task at hand.
They ate in silence for a couple of minutes, though they both kept giving each other sly looks and shy smiles. Finally Jeff cleared his throat and set down his fork, "you know that wasn't exactly how I had planned this."
Cailin couldn't stop her smirk, "really, there was a plan?"
"Cal!" he admonished. "Why do you think I've been trying to get our schedules coordinated and to get you away from Molly's? There was supposed to be a date. At an actual restaurant, the kind with tablecloths, a bottle of wine, flowers, the whole deal."
She stuck her hand out, waiting until he shook it looking at her curiously. "Cailin Callahan, nice to meet you," she replied sarcastically. He looked slightly wounded. She let out a sigh, "when have I ever appeared to have been the kind of girl that needs any of that?
Jeff shook his head, clearing their now empty plates. "It's not about needing, Cally, it's about deserving." He looked at her for a long beat, not wanting to keep anything unsaid between them, that had already almost cost them. "I know you haven't gotten much of that; I just don't think it's right."
"Right or not, you've already discovered I put out without you buying me dinner first. Or breakfast," she added with raised eyebrows.
"Callahan," he growled low in his chest.
Even though she knew the sound was just one of frustration, she felt her body immediately respond, flushing with desire again. "Clarke," she forced herself to cover, acutely away that she was only wearing on of his t- shirts; their clothing still strewn between the front door and the bed.
"My point is there was supposed to be a date, some romance, something about us taking it slow..." he trailed off. "Not that," he remarked, pointing at the trail of jogging gear between the front door and the bedroom.
She slid off the stool, unable to take the counter between them any longer. "You saying you have a problem with that? she challenged, closing the distance between them, pulling him down to her by his t-shirt.
"No problem at all, ma'am," he said, scooping her up and showing her just how not a problem he had.
They laid in bed again, this time Cailin not reaching for the sheet, instead resting her head on his chest. She listened to his heart as it eventually slowed until he turned, propping his elbow up and resting his head on his fist. He looked down at her appraisingly before clearing his throat. "So I've got this friend's wedding coming up. Buddy of mine from USMC, it's in San Diego, so I'm taking a week. It's why I've switched shifts and worked extra."
"Oh good to know you weren't avoiding me," she said, mirroring his propping, knowing full-well she had been the one doing the avoiding.
He gave her a look before continuing, "come with me." "Come with you, to the wedding? In San Diego?" she asked, clearly shocked. "Why not?" he inquired, hoping she wasn't regretting their morning's pursuits.
Cailin pulled herself to sitting, finally reaching for the sheet. "Because I can't just switch a couple of shifts around and go traipsing off to California. Not to mention I am still on Belden's fertilizer schedule." She saw the disappointment in his eyes, warmed by it as much as it broke her heart a little. "I would love to go with you if I could, Jeff. Know that, sincerely, but I still have to make up for my adventures with IU or get a new boss." Something flickered behind his eyes. "What?" she pressed, catching it, studying him.
Jeff also sat, waving her off, "no, I've got it, you can't just take off. I just didn't want you to think I didn't want you to come with me."
"Uh-huh," she said still staring at him, waiting. She could tell by his expression that he was trying to figure out how to say something.
"Speaking of new bosses..." he started. She smiled, "ah, there it is. Is Boden talking about retiring again?" Jeff shook his head, "not that I know of...you know how I passed the Lieutenant's exam?" Cailin let out a small snort. "Yes, despite you not actually telling me or anyone."
He shrugged, "I wanted to give Hermann a win. The thing is, well, now there too many Lieutenants and not enough Squad."
"Meaning?" Cailin asked, her brow creasing as she tried to figure out what he was saying. "I have a chance to head up Truck 25," he replied, looking suddenly uncomfortable.
"You got a promotion, you're going to run your own truck? That's amazing, you're going to be amazing!" she said, excitedly, wondering why he looked so nonchalant or, was that wistful? "You have to leave 51," she realized, putting it together. He nodded, slightly melancholy, still sheepish. She realized what was weighing on him. "You haven't told them yet."
"Nope." His one word answer made her look at him carefully. "When does the promotion go through?"
He pursed his lips before answering, "I'm going to sub over at 102 for a couple shifts next week to make sure it is a good fit; but it is a pretty much a done deal after I get back from the wedding."
Cailin sighed, exasperated. "And when exactly is this wedding, Jeff?"
"I'm gone the week after next," he replied sheepishly.
"How can you not have told them? They're like family!" she admonished.
"Which is exactly why I haven't told them," Jeff explained, reaching out stroking her cheek. "51 saved my life, 51 brought you to me! I feel like I'm abandoning them."
She captured his palm, kissing it. "It's a promotion, Jeff, they'll be happy for you, that's what family does... most of the time," she said with a grimace. "You need to at least tell Kelly, after everything he's been dealing with, he should have a head's up before he gets a new person on Squad," she continued, dropping his hand and giving him a look that was not to be argued with.
"Right this second?" he protested, moving his hand up her thigh, giving her a smoldering look.
She reached across him, pressing her soft flesh against his muscular chest, throwing a leg over him with a wicked grin before snaking an arm out to grab his phone from the nightstand. "Yes, right this second, Clarke," she said, handing him the phone.
"It's a good thing I'm a goner for you, Callahan," he growled, punching in Severide's number.
Chapter 27: Catch Fire
Gabby's place seemed bigger, emptier and even less like hers when Cailin let herself in before shift the next morning. She really hadn't planned on spending the rest of the day and night at Jeff's, not wanting to be 'that girl'. However, Jeff had made it very clear he didn't really want her to leave. They didn't leave the condo, in fact they barely left the bedroom. Though they spent as much time talking as they did on extracurriculars; talking like they had back when they were jogging together everyday.
While they had maintained the connection that had instantly formed between them, everything that had happened with Lisa, Jules' death, the Keeler case and Jones had distanced them more than either realized. Over the course of even just that one day, the bond between them re-strengthened; and not just because of their now physical connection.
They both had realized and admitted, at least to themselves, that the world was a far easier place to face with the other in their life; each truly knowing the value of having someone understand them at their core. Which is why it was difficult for Cailin to leave; she had truly believed she would never find that again, perhaps even stronger than she had with Jimmy. Jeff had met her bent and burned; yet he still wanted her and it felt more like because of, instead of in spite of.
Cailin barely had time to make it to her desk before she got called out to the scene park, a young man lying by the jogging path, strangled to death with a cord still around his neck. She was getting information from the uniforms first on scene, trying to figure out why the victim's name sounded familiar when IAD rolled up. That couldn't be good. Her afterglow quickly faded as Stillwell informed her why he was there. "Seriously? Jay Halstead?" she muttered, as Stillwell all but shoved her back towards the yellow tape. Cailin glared at the man behind his back, pulling out her phone and making a call. She tried to hide her shock when Voight pulled up, carefully studying the interaction between Voight and Stillwell.
Voight caught her looking at them, giving her a look. "Can I help you, Callahan?" he asked.
"Just wondering who was taking the case, as much as I am enjoying freezing my ass off out here," she replied, with raised eyebrows. Something as close as she had ever seen to a smile flitted across Voight's face.
"You can assist, but IAD is on-point," Stillwell said, practically shooing her away.
Cailin rolled her eyes, "glad I can help," she grumbled, giving him a mock salute as soon as he turned his back.
Cailin met Antonio Dawson in the parking lot of the precinct. "Thanks for the head's up," he said, giving her a grateful look.
"Figured I owed you a solid. I am not going to point out the irony," she replied with a shrug before lifting her palms, "look, 'Tonio, I am not about to judge, but do you think he did it?"
Antonio set his jaw, hunching his shoulders. "I don't know, yet. Though I plan on finding out." "I hope not," he tacked on.
Cailin nodded, "me too." She looked around before pulling the folded newspaper from her tote, something hidden within its folds. "Thought you might want to check up on some world events in your downtime." He took it, not saying anything, looking at her curiously before realizing there was a file inside. His eyes widened slightly. "You didn't get it from me. Just make sure if Jay is clean, Stillwell doesn't railroad him."
Between working new cases that came in and practically being Stillwell's secretary combined with Jeff picking up extra shifts in Roger's Park, the pair didn't get much of a chance to see each other. phone calls and texts having to suffice until the night before Jeff was heading to San Diego. Emboldened by taking their relationship to the next level along with knowing he wasn't around the next week, Cailin invited Jeff over to Gabby's for dinner.
Her heart sped up as his knock sounded on the front door, trying to not practically skip through the apartment to open it. Her eyes flicked admiringly over his form. Stopping but not commenting on the duffel bag clutched in his hand. Their eyes met, and she knew he could tell she was trying to not smirk by the sheepish grin he gave, mumbling something about an early flight. She pretended to not hear; inviting him to come in and excusing herself to the kitchen to check dinner. "My culinary skills are more utilitarian than master chef, I have to admit," she called from the kitchen, letting out a gasp of surprise and pleasure as she felt Jeff's breath, lips, and, finally, teeth graze her neck; realizing only after he had spun her to face him that it had been on the same side as her scar. It was the first time she hadn't been at least subconsciously aware of it.
"I'm sure it will be great, and if not, we can always order pizza," he said, before putting his hand on the back of her neck, pulling her up to him, kissing her almost greedily.
She reached behind her to turn the stove off, thinking despite having a fireman in the kitchen, it probably wasn't a good idea to burn down her friend's apartment. He grinned into the kiss at her action, before sliding his hands around her waist, lightly brushing his fingers up under her sweater, causing her toes to curl. "It'll keep," she murmured, practically dragging him to the bedroom.
Jeff Clarke stood in front of the door; duffel bag in one hand, the other poised to knock. He hesitated, he didn't want to seem presumptuous; which is something he hadn't considered when he grabbed it after packing for his trip. All he had thought about was how long this week had seemed, not being able to do more than try to catch an actual phone call with Cailin here and there. The thought of spending the next week halfway across the country without spending every possible second with her beforehand completely clouded his judgement. His heart lit up when she swung open the door; an easy smile on her face, clad in well-worn jeans and a comfortable sweater, her hair escaping from its messy bun. He would have dropped the duffel in the hall and consumed her in the doorway if he hadn't caught her smirking at his bag. Busted. The fact that she didn't say anything endeared her to him even more; though he still gave a feeble excuse over an early morning flight. He watched her pad off to the kitchen, dropping his bag next to the couch, throwing his coat over it before quickly following after her; unable to keep his distance a second longer.
Dinner delayed, but still far more enjoyable than Cailin seemed to give herself credit for; he easily cleared his bowl of stew, particularly pleased when she did the same. They sat at the table, drinking wine, catching each other up on the past week; the scene comfortably domestic enough to give him pause. Not for its domesticity, but for how genuine and comfortable it felt. He was slightly forlorn that it had taken this long, couldn't help blame himself for that. Even if they had decided, tangled together in his bed, that they needed shove his ill- fated decisions in a box on a high shelf. Clarke found himself yearning to sit down with Cailin every night they weren't working to catch up with each other, wrapped around each other like a security blanket. The intensity in which he craved that frightened him slightly.
"Uh-oh, the wheels are turning," Cailin mused, causing Jeff's head to snap up, looking at her slightly bashful.
"It's nothing," he said, the a shrug, "just thinking that this was great; dinner, sitting here, seeing you, all of it," he replied, stopping himself from saying all of what he was thinking. He didn't want to scare her off, despite recently charging forward.
Cailin stood, clearing their bowls before returning to the table; sliding on his lap instead oh her own chair. "Yeah, it is pretty nice, isn't it? Comfortable," she said, her eyes searching his, trying to convey that it was far beyond just comfortable, struggling with the words. "Like it's just...right?" she finished, not meaning for it to come out as much of a question as it did. She truly meant it; she could easily picture herself sitting on a couch with him every night they weren't on shift, sipping wine or beer, just being. Hell, if she had that opportunity, HR might be on her ass less about taking furlough.
Clarke stared into her eyes, losing a little more of himself in them; understanding what she meant, what she was trying to say, though he disliked her doubtful tone. He moved his hands up, placing one on the back of her neck, using the thumb of the other to brush her cheek. "Cally, do you know how much..." he trailed off, apprehensive about frightening her off if he admitted the true depth of his feelings for her. "Remember when you said you needed me, 'out there'? I hope you know how much I need you, too." He kicked himself for his cowardice; he loved her, why couldn't he just say it?
Cailin watched his eyes cloud slightly, sensing his internal battle. She moved her own hands up to cradle his face, the corners of her mouth turning up into a sweet smile as she softly replied, "Good to know, Jeff, because I still need you; maybe even more now and," her smile grew, turning impish, "pretty sure you're stuck with me." The clouds retreated, his expression clearing to something closer to her sunny grin as he raised his eyebrows before kissing her wantonly, tipping her back on the table.
She laughed slightly as she attempted to come up for air. "While I hate to dissuade you, I really don't want to destroy any of Gabby's family heirlooms," she remarked, biting her lip in a way that made Clarke willing to write a check for every piece of furniture in the place. "In that case," he replied with a cocked eyebrow, effortlessly throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her to the bedroom.
"Why are all you hose-draggers such show-offs?" she whelped as he tossed her on the bed. "Because we can't shoot people," he retorted, pulling off his shirt.
Neither of them had gotten enough sleep when Clarke's alarm went off early the next morning. Cailin let out a groan that was very much the opposite of those he had elicited the night before, pulling the covers over her head. "Sorry, Cal," he laughed, drawing the covers back down so he could land a kiss on her forehead.
"If I didn't love you, I would hate you," she growled, before realizing what she had said and turning nearly as purple as the quilt. Her heart stopped as the panic set in. Damn it, she was going to scare him off; he probably thought she was one of those annoying, clinging girlfriends. Assuming she was his girlfriend. Wait, what if this was just- Her thoughts cut-off by his kissing her intensely, before giving her a wink and saying, "I'll go make us coffee."
Cailin remained practically mute when she emerged from the bedroom for coffee, her cheeks still tinged with pink.
Clarke found her fluster utterly charming; yet he held back from saying anything, knowing she had to wade through this on her own. He didn't say much either, flipping through the paper over coffee; one eye on the clock as it ticked closer to their slight separation. It was only a week. How many tours had he done in Iraq and Afghanistan without feeling this pang in his chest? Of course, he hadn't been leaving Cally any of those times. He cleared his throat, "cab will be here soon," he said, looking at her over the top of the paper before folding it neatly. "I should wait out front," he said, trying to convince himself to leave.
"I'll walk you out, wait with you," Cailin replied, looking at him longingly. "You sure you don't want to come?" he asked, smiling down at her as they stood out front.
"A week in sunny San Diego with you, why would I want that?" she said, with a smirk, gesturing at the grey skies and brushing the falling snow off his shoulders; trying to ignore her earlier use of the L-word. He looked dejected enough for her to add, "of course I want to go, Jeff, I just can't, There's no such thing as a sub-out detective."
"Had to try," he said as he gave her another sly grin, " and it would be a lot nicer with you there," he added, his hands going to her hips, pulling her closer as his lips met hers in a heated kiss that only ended when the cab driver pulled up and honked.
Cailin looked up at him, slightly dazed and wistful. She didn't have to say anything, knowing he could read her thoughts, was thinking similar ones given his expression. She walked down the front path with him, giving him another kiss as he opened the door to the cab. "See you around, Clarke," she said, forcing a broad smile.
"In a week," he replied, his smile much less forced as he gave her one more kiss; saying, "I love you too, Callahan," before sliding into the backseat.
Cailin practically floated into the precinct, though both Belden and Helling tried to drag her down.
"Jesus, Callahan, is that an actual smile without inflicting physical harm on a perp? Never though I would see the day," Helling snipped.
"Please tell me you a grinning because you aren't my problem any more," Belden said making a sucking sound of his tongue against his teeth.
Cailin cocked a hand on her hip, saying, "you wouldn't like your COMSTAT numbers very much if that was the case, Loo."
"You finally getting laid, aren't you?" Helling pushed, waggling his eyebrows. "See, I told you she seemed less pent-up. She's hasn't tripped a single person on the way to booking in, like a week."
Cailin narrowed her eyes, "I am so very happy that you two ladies like to have coffee talk about my sex life, but you both have made it clear I will never be a member of your little club; so I highly suggest you quit talking about what I'm doing in my off time."
Helling opened his mouth to make another sarcastic comment, but even Belden could tell the younger detective's fuse was at its end, so he cleared his throat and said, "sure there are cases needing solved."
