Chapter 14: Building Fires
"Hey, I thought you were going wake me," Cailin's voice, still tinged with sleep, sounded from the hallway. Clarke looked up, taking in one of his shirts hanging off her shoulder, as she padded into the living room and flopped on the couch next to him.
"What time is it anyway?" she asked, before realizing Clarke was sitting stock still, his elbows resting on his knees, his eyes a tangle of emotions. She dropped to her knees in front of him, wedging herself between the coffee table and the couch. "Jeff, what is it? What happened?"
Clarke shook his head, his nostrils flaring, unable to speak, jerking his head toward the coffee table. "That," he finally croaked out.
Cailin followed his gaze, the intensity in his eyes almost frightening. She spied the envelope, starting to reach for it when she took in the return address, Logan Correctional Institute, Lincoln, IL. The women's prison, where Lisa was incarcerated. Her mouth went dry. Hadn't she caused them enough heartache? "What does she want?" Cailin asked, her voice carefully controlled in a vain attempt to keep a lid on her emotions. No wonder he had looked so intense when she came in.
"To finish step nine," he said through clenched teeth.
It took Cailin a moment before she realized what Clarke was saying. "To make amends?" Cailin shook her head, climbing back on the couch. "How can she possibly think she can do that?"
He just gave the slightest of shrugs and shook his head, his eyes still stormy. "You should read it."
"You want me to read an amends letter from your ex-wi-"
"Cailin, please," he pleaded, handing her the envelope.
She sighed, pulling the paper out, scanning the words, her eyebrows knitting together as she read the stark truths. "Jeff, I don't know what to say. I mean, she…" Cailin trailed off, at a loss. They had talked about whether Lisa had heard about her, if that hadn't been part of her showing back up. That theory had now been proven, along with the one about Hayes. To see that she owned up to her actions, it should probably mean something. Except it didn't stop Cailin from remembering the pain; and judging from the look on his face, Jeff was remembering it just as acutely.
They reached for each other at the same time, seeking shelter and peace; Clarke pulling Cally into his lap, each serving as an anchor and rock to the other, the letter fluttering to the floor as they took the last line to heart.
Tangled in each other and the sheets sometime later, Clarke laid a trail of kisses down Cailin's body, as much an excuse to check her wound as anything else. "It's fine, Jeff," she said, gently calling him out, knowing exactly what he was doing. "It had plenty of time to close up while I was playing Sleeping Beauty, not to mention Shay is still damn good," she said, smiling down at him.
"Sometimes I think you know me a little too well, Callahan," he shot back, meeting her lips with his own.
Still worn from the case and Lisa's amends, both physically and emotionally, Cailin barely even registered when Clarke left for classes the next morning. She bolted awake mid-morning, thinking she was running late for a briefing before remembering she was on administrative leave. Cally knew why Voight wasn't willing to let her slide; he was still feeling the burn from Stillwell. And given her rash actions, it was probably best for her to walk a straight line for the next few weeks. Except she wanted to know what was happening with the case, to track down Alec and Mykola, to see them get their metal bracelets. She gave in and called Erin.
"Lindsay," her fellow detective and friend barked into the phone.
"It's Cally, I just wanted to check in. See how the briefing went. Is Frank out of ICU yet? What's the word on Alec and Mykola?"
Erin growled into the phone, "You are really bad at administrative leave, Callahan. Why are you calling me? Don't you have anything better to do?" She glared at Jay who was acting like he was scared of her driving while on the phone, like he was ever going to win any driving safety awards.
"Not really," Cailin admitted with a sigh.
"Clarke's busy, huh?" she replied with a laugh, ignoring Jay as he made a face.
"Good to know I am that transparent," Cailin retorted.
Jay wrestled the phone away from Erin, "Look, Callahan, finish your girl chat later before Erin takes out a pedestrian or runs us into a brick wall. Some of us have work to do." He stabbed the end call button and threw the phone on the dash.
By lunchtime, Cailin was almost bored enough to head down to visit her family, but decided to visit her second family instead.
She walked into 51 with the tray of food, realizing just how different it felt now. Sure Matt was still barking orders, but now it was at Candidate Nelson. Hermann was still ranting about something he had seen on the news while Cruz, Capp and Severide rolled their eyes and Mills watched bemusedly from the kitchen; but there were three other new faces in addition the candidate. As well as the more familiar face of Allison Rafferty who was trying to explain what half of the items on the baby registry Donna had sent over to Boden were.
"Should have gotten here earlier, I see," Cailin said to Mills, setting the pan on the counter.
"Cally, hey," he said, with a smile. "No worries, this can freeze and you know this crowd, we can always eat."
Cailin smiled at him before saying, "well, I know most of this crowd, Mills. How are they doing?"
Mills gave a slightly sad smile. "They're okay, still not the same…" he trailed off before shrugging, "but that's life I suppose."
"Callahan, when did you sneak in?" Hermann said, finally stopping his ranting long enough to notice she was there, "and why are you visiting us instead of Ugly?" he said, with an authentic grin.
"Somewhere between you ranting about the hike in St. Ignatius' tuition and your conspiracy theory on the welfare system. Cindy must have the patience of a saint," she said, going over and elbowing him slightly, before giving him a hug, deftly avoiding the subject of Clarke being at med school instead of firefighting.
"How's the wound?" Severide asked gesturing to her stomach. Matt's head snapped up, giving his friend a look.
"It is fine, Severide. I take it Shay blabbed?" she said, giving him a mock glare and waving Matt off.
"You know she can't keep a secret. I also heard you had to fire your weapon. Take it you're on leave?"
Cailin nodded, "yep, and I barely grazed the bitch, this probably hurt more," she said, briefly showing the angry red line held together by Shay's careful butterfly bandaging. "I just feel bad about the monkey."
"What about a monkey?" Cruz asked, looking slightly confused.
"Some exotic animals got loose, one of them was about to leap on Ruzek and I took it out," she explained, sliding out a chair and sitting next to Matt. They all realized the four new guys were staring at Cally with their mouths hanging open.
"Detective Callahan is a member of the Intelligence Unit over at the 21st Precinct. Lieutenant Casey and she are lifelong friends. Her father was a Deputy Commissioner and two of her brothers are also with CFD," Boden explained, before giving her a pat on the shoulder and heading to his office.
"A cop, huh, does that mean you carry a gun?" one of the guys asked with an all too familiar gleam in his eye. She merely nodded as the guy continued, "and handcuffs?" He elbowed Capp sitting next to him.
The rest of 51 seemed to sense what was about to happen; Hermann shook his head, already walking away, Mills mirroring the action as he stirred his pot of stew. Severide snorted, muttering "good luck, Davis" right as the newbie continued, "so what do I got to do to see them?"
Rafferty made a strangled noise as Cruz made a sign of the cross. Matt clamped a hand on her shoulder, expecting that she was going to jump out of her chair and throttle Davis.
Cailin brushed him off, "if you plan on breaking the law, I would be more than happy to show them to you, Davis, was it?" she said, a smile painted on her face that belied the ice in her eyes.
"Oh, so you like the V not the P, huh? Didn't you say your roomie was a lesbo, Severide?" the new Squad guy quipped, earning a swat on the back of his head from Severide.
"Don't be an idiot, Rice, she's with Lieutenant Clarke; who used to have your spot, wish he still did."
"Wait, the dude that took the fall for his chick? I thought she went to prison," Davis replied with another ill-advised leer at Cally, "though I suppose if anyone could beat a wrap, it would be a cop."
This is what brought Cailin out of her chair, knocking it over as she stood up with such force, vaulting toward Davis, stopped only by Severide stepping in between them and Casey pulling her back.
"Maybe you should go, Callahan," Severide said, his eyes telling her it wasn't a suggestion.
"I'll walk you out, I need some air that hasn't been contaminated by idiots," Casey said, rushing up and grabbing her elbow.
Realizing that everyone was staring made Cailin start to blush and she easily let Matt pull her away, barely shooting a look at Mills as he called out, "thanks for the food."
"You wanna tell me why Dumbass Davis can make stupid handcuff statements and you manage to smile at him but one mention of Voldemort and you turn into an Olympic hurdler?" Casey asked as they made their way outside.
Cailin chewed her lip, not wanting to air dirty laundry even to one of her best friends. But it wasn't like it was a secret. "Lisa sent Jeff a letter."
"What does she want now?" Casey said, already going on the defensive.
Cailin let out a sigh. "Supposedly to make amends, she's working a 'program'," she replied with angry air quotes, "but fat lot of good it does except to drag up old crap."
Casey studied her carefully. "You aren't afraid of that woman still having a hold on Clarke, are you, Cal? Because I can tell you, that is not the case." From the look in Cally's eyes, he could tell at least a small part of her friend was worrying about exactly that. But he knew Jeff Clarke had fallen for his friend just as hard as he had fallen for Gabby, if not more so. "You'll have to trust me on this one, okay?"
"I know, I'm being stupid," Cailin replied, playing with the zipper on her jacket. "Anyway, I should go," she said, pulling out her buzzing phone.
"See ya, Callahan," Casey called after her.
"We got a line one of them," Erin's voice said over the line.
"Alec or Mykola?" Cailin asked with a sigh, feeling left out.
"Alec, but hopefully he'll be singing like a bird as soon as we bring him in and get him in the cage. Just thought you should know, Cally, even though Voight told me not to call you."
Cailin could practically hear the tinkling laugh in her voice. "Yes, because you always do everything Hank Voight tells you to. Thanks for the heads up."
"No problem, now please go have some fun on your two days off so I can be insanely jealous and live vicariously through you."
Cailin wanted to do as Erin had bid, however it was a little difficult considering all her friends were working. Finally, knowing she could at least score a free meal and some left overs, she headed down to Oak Forest to visit her mother, now ensconced at Coleman's house. The visit was nice enough, though rambunctious, with her nieces and nephews fighting for her time, Cole giving her weird looks all night and her mother constantly harping on her while she held baby Conrad. She externally rolled her eyes, while her internal monologue more ran along the lines of vowing to not name her children any names that started with C.
Chapter 15: Another Log on the Fire
The best part of visiting her family with a new baby in the house was that she was back early enough to catch Clarke before he passed out studying and have a full spread ready when he walked into the kitchen the next morning. "Hope you have time to eat," she said as he poured a cup of coffee.
He grinned at her before taking a long drink, "Class doesn't start until one and this smells way better than cafeteria food, but who else did you invite to breakfast, Callahan?"
"What the hell else am I supposed to do with three days off, Clarke?" she asked with a smile, handing him a plate piled high with food.
He caught her wrist pulling her into his lap, "I might have a couple of ideas. You still got that so-called uniform?"
"After you eat, cowboy, I'm not letting this go to waste," she replied, though she was tempted to give in to his ministrations.
"Actually I do have another idea for this morning," Clarke said as they were eating.
Cally looked at him, "I'm not putting that damn corset back on voluntarily, babe."
He pursed his lips at her, "seriously, I was thinking maybe we could call Goodwill and donate some of this stuff," he remarked, gesturing around.
"Uh-huh and then what are we supposed to do?" she said, looking around.
He cocked an eyebrow, "Cally, we are adults and GI Bill gives me a housing allowance, we can buy new stuff. Wouldn't you want to do that anyway when we get our own place?"
She gave him a look and a half-smirk, "oh, are we still doing that?"
"Cailin," he growled warningly, "we've both been busy, and it isn't because I don't want to. Unless you don't want to."
Cailin wondered if she was imagining it or if his tone was tinged with a certain amount of desperation. She did want them to get their own place; like Gabby, she didn't like being in a place bearing so many markings of the woman before her. Hell, even Voight had caught her looking up real estate listings, but something about getting 'their place' made this real. Very, very real.
Clarke studied Cally from across the table, not moving a muscle. He didn't want to influence her answer in any way, but he had to hope she hadn't changed her mind. Especially not after having talked to Connor Callahan the day before. He just had to get through the next few days. That was all. He could do it. Especially if she said…
"Of course I still want us to get our own place, Jeff, but you are in an accelerated program, so you get practically no time off and we would need to get your condo ready to go on the market and," she paused, looking around, "well, I guess I see your point. Maybe we should call Goodwill."
Clarke tried to not breathe out a sigh of relief, covering it with a grin and coming over to kiss her on the head. "Sounds great. Why don't you look up their number while I try to make heads or tails of your mess in here?"
"You don't get to complain, Mr. Clean Plate Club," she smiled at him, ducking out of the way of his snap of the towel.
They spent the morning and any free time over the couple of days sorting through the contents of the condo, though luckily Lisa's personal effects had long since been at her sister's. But most of the overstuffed, country decor was hauled away and headed for another life. Which meant they were left with a lot of open space.
"So I feel like we might need to go furniture shopping," Cally quipped as Clarke flipped through a textbook while sitting on a camp chair a couple of nights later.
Clarke gave her a half-smile, "we're not just going with a minimalist theme? Aren't real estate agents always going on about de-cluttering?"
"I don't think we were supposed to make it look like it was a crash pad though, Jeff; and I haven't really spent a lot of time talking to real estate agents. Maybe this is one now," she said, making a face as she reached for her phone. "Callahan."
"We got Mykola. Full briefing up in IU at 11 am, blondie," came Voight's voice.
"Sure thing, boss-" she started to say before realizing he had already hung up. She noticed Clarke looking at her with a slightly downtrodden expression. "What?"
"You have to go in, don't you?" he asked, trying to not sound disappointed, knowing Cally had been in a state with even just a few days of leave.
Cailin couldn't help but grin as she stuck a hand out toward him to help him up. "Yeah, tomorrow at 11 am. Now how about I go show you how glad I am you kept your bachelor pad bed in storage?" she grinned at him wickedly.
Cally was still lounging in bed with a cup of coffee as Clarke hauled ass out the door in the morning for his Saturday shift up Roger's Park; teasing her for being lazy, knowing she was anything but. It was only on her way back to bed with a coffee refill that she saw the morning sunlight catch something on Clarke's nightstand. His challenge coin, he never went on shift without it; it was his talisman, his rabbit's foot.
She looked at the clock, calculating the round trip and if it would have her running late or not. Cally had a brief text conversation with Erin, begging her to cover if she didn't get there in time for the briefing. After a little ribbing, her friend acquiesced.
Cailin pulled up in front of the station, happy to see Truck 25 still in its bay, realizing the coin was as much her talisman as it was Jeff's. Safe, she needed him safe because he kept her grounded, he was her reason for being.
"Hey guys," she said, walking into the firehouse, greeting his team. Part of her had hoped he would stay back at 51 after everything that had happened with the explosion; but med school had changed all that, even if he still hadn't completely left CFD.
"Detective," they greeted her in their overly formal way.
"Cally," came a cheery, familiar voice from practically inside the Engine where Gabby was doing inventory. She hopped down, giving her friend a hug. "What brings you around?"
"Clarke just forgot something, thought I'd drop it off on my way in. How was the family engagement party?" she asked, returning Gabby's enthusiastic hug.
"Must be important to traipse up here. He's in his quarters, bitching about paperwork," Gabby said with an eye roll.
Cally let out a snort, "I'm sure you've heard more than enough about CFD paperwork."
Gabby laughed heartily. "Girl, you know it." Gabby smiled broadly, giving her friend a squeeze on the arm, "it is really nice to see you, Cally. I've missed seeing you."
"You too, Gabby," Cailin replied, wondering if she caught a hint of wistfulness in her friend's tone. It had been a long, tough summer for everyone, and that included Matt and Gabby…
Cailin had heard wistfulness in Gabby's tone, she and Clarke had a heart to heart about it a couple of shifts ago. She had been slightly apprehensive about telling her Lieutenant about everything she had dealt with since that awful day; her own nightmares, how she pretty much checked out every time they went out on a call, unable to focus on anything except the task at hand, her emotions completely numb. Or how it took a little longer each time she came back from a call out to start to feel again, despite supposedly being a blushing bride-to-be. Her mother was ecstatic, constantly badgering her bridal magazines and color schemes and a million endless questions. But she could do little more than paste a fake smile on her face and pretend to be over the moon.
Clarke was genuinely concerned about Gabby, especially since she was his candidate. He had tried to get to know everyone up in Roger's Park, but that house wasn't the same as 51, everyone more just wanting to get the job done, get in and out and not really bonding. He was sure he didn't help things much, only being there on weekends.
Gabby was grateful for his concern, even if things felt so different from how they had at 51. The guys up in Roger's Park wanted to keep things very surface level. At least they weren't treating her any different for being female, though she wondered how much of that had to do with Brandon Jones making it clear he was all in support of female firefighters as long as they could 'handle it'.
Which is why Gabby hadn't reached out for any professional help, not wanting to be labeled a hysterical female who couldn't cut it. "It just feels like everything is different and I don't know which end is up anymore, Clarke!" Gabby implored, while angrily mopping the concrete of the truck bays.
Clarke couldn't help but smile, "that's because it is all different, Dawson. You were living a completely different life a few months ago, we all were."
"I know, and I am not trying to act like I got the short end of the stick. I am still working with CFD, as a firefighter, I'm still alive. I feel like a brat for complaining," she said, growing sullen, thinking of Newhouse, his close-knit family beyond devastated at his death; also thinking about Rebecca Jones, knowing she had to succeed as much to honor the other woman's memory, as for herself.
"You ain't complaining, Dawson, you're stating a fact. World isn't the same place, and I'm not sure any of us know which way is up anymore." Dawson looked lost and forlorn enough that he decided to change tactics, lowering his voice to an almost whisper, "Is it just me, or does everyone up here act like they got a stick up their butt?"
Gabby jumped, slightly surprised. She had felt like people were walking on eggshells, but she had assumed it was just because there wasn't any women in the house; even the 'medics were all guys. That was until Chout showed up on a relief shift one day and started calling her 'Chuck'. When she finally yelled at him about it, he informed her that's what everyone else was calling anyone from 51, the full name being 'Bad Luck Chuck'. She suddenly averted her gaze.
"Don't tell me it's just me, Dawson. Or is it just me? I thought I was doing pretty well as a Loo." Maybe he wasn't doing such a good job juggling being a med student and a CFD Lieutenant as he thought he was.
Gabby looked up at him through her eyelashes, wringing out the mop before continuing. "It's not you, it's us. They think we are bad luck, it's why Chout kept calling us Chuck."
"I thought he was just an idiot," Clarke said, shaking his head.
Cailin walked past the empty mess hall to Clarke's quarters, knocking on the door before she entered. Jeff was bent over his desk, concentrating on the hated paperwork. "Forget something?" she asked, holding up his coin between her thumb and forefinger.
"How do you know I wasn't just trying to get you to stop by?" he said, rising and taking it from her, pulling her to him.
"Because if you wanted me to stop by, you would just tell me to, Clarke," she said with a smirk.
He raised his eyebrows, "think you know me so well, Callahan?" He kissed her and then said, "since you're already up here, why don't I cook us some breakfast?"
"Shouldn't Candidate Dawson being doing that?" Cally teased.
"She already did for the crew, I was too busy with paperwork. Come on, I make a mean omelet." He gave her a heated look, knowing full well those were the words he said to her right before the first time they slept together.
"That you do," she replied as she cocked an eyebrow, "but I'm not going at it with you in the gear room."
"Very funny, come on, to the kitchen," he stressed, though he still let his hand linger on her lower back.
"You really don't have to cook for me," she said, watching him move around the kitchen, as she sat on top of the counter.
"You cook for me and 51 all the time, Callahan, so let me win on some folded eggs, babe," he said, getting out ingredients. "Can you grab me that pepper?" he asked, pointing behind where she was sitting.
She turned, stretching to reach for it and when she turned back around she saw Clarke hunched down on the ground. At first she though he was tying his boot, before realizing he was looking up. "Uh, Jeff?" she asked, hesitantly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement just outside the glass, turning and catching sight of Gabby ducking. She turned back to where he was, yep, still on one knee, still looking up at her. Her heart started pounding.
"I once said that 51 saved my life and you once told me I had saved yours. I want to amend my previous statement, 51 saved my life, but you gave me a life worth living and so I was hoping that you, Cailin Marie Callahan, would at least considering being my wife?"
She realized he had a ring between his finger and thumb, a sapphire, her favorite stone, on an antique filigree band. "You left it on purpose?" she said, slightly shocked and questioningly.
"I left it on purpose," he replied, nodding, "Now could you give me an answer before this frying pan catches on fire and I become the laughingstock of CFD for burning down my own fire station?"
Cailin could only nod, still in shock, even as he stood, sliding the ring on her finger and moving in for a kiss. She complied, happily, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him towards her as he nearly laid her back on the counter top.
Her phone started buzzing. Cally worked to extract it from her pocket, finally pulling it out and seeing the text from Gabby: Congrats, need me to guard the gear room? xo "You told Gabby?" she squeaked out.
Clarke smiled at her broadly, "I told the whole house, how do you think I kept them out of here?"
"Good thing I said yes," Cailin laughed.
"Wasn't ever a doubt," he retorted.
"Don't get too cocky, cowboy."
"Why today? This isn't about the letter, right?" she asked, digging into the omelet.
Clarke gave her a knowing look, "It was a year ago today that I first met you."
"How did you know that or remember that? Has it only been a year?" she replied. Thinking back, she couldn't even recall the date; all she remembered was being struck with…"the challenge coin," she said with a slightly wistful smile.
Clarke nodded, not saying anything, studying her as she sat across from him, chewing on her food. She hooked her leg around his under the table, trying to play cool, despite now being engaged, as he waved his waiting crew back into the mess hall. "Don't ever let anyone tell you Marines aren't romantic, Clarke."
"Of course we are, we're gentlemen," he smirked. It was the truth, even more so in his efforts with Cailin. He knew she had thrown herself into the job, had to hide her relationship with Jimmy, her previous engagement having only been as long as it took a judge to waive the waiting period on the marriage license. She hadn't ever really been courted, and he had done his best to change that; at least as much as she would allow him to. Hence his rather understated proposal, especially compared to the outrageous ideas Shay had concocted for him. Frankly he was surprised Shay had been able to keep it a secret, but after he had talked to Connor, he knew he had to do something fast, before the Callahan family gossip got back to Cally. Connor had laughed at Clarke when he asked for his permission to propose. "If Pops were still around he would be doing the same thing. My sister isn't really one for tradition, Marine, in case you hadn't caught on."
The station chief suddenly appeared at the table, offering the couple his congratulations as he apologized for being shorthanded and not able to let Clarke go. Cailin waved him off, knowing she had to get to work as well. "Speaking of which, I gotta go, Erin's covering for me, but Voight will have my ass if I'm not at the briefing."
"Feel free to tell him where to stick it, babe," Clarke said as he walked her out, "and though I know you want to be back at work, know I would much rather us be spending the day together."
"I think you've done more than enough today, Jeff," she replied, giving him another long kiss.
Chapter 16: Fire in the Hole
"Oh look who finally decided to show up. Nice of you to grace us with your presence, sunshine," Voight grumbled as Cailin made her way into IU.
"I brought donuts," she replied, setting them on the corner of her desk as she tried to avoid his glare, "and it is 11:07!"
Voight narrowed his eyes at her, "don't try my patience, Callahan, or I'll send you right back out on leave." She squirmed under his glare until Antonio rescued her. "Come off it, Hank, you were just saying the past few days felt like forever."
"Back to work, hope whatever made you late was important, Callahan," he said, his eyes settling on her for a long beat before he turned back to the boards.
"Donuts are very important," Ruzek replied, his mouth stuffed full of a cruller.
Cally snorted in reply, thinking if only they knew. Some detectives they were, she had left her ring on, and it was taking everything in her power to pay attention to Voight's rundown and not stare down at the new weight on her left hand.
It was, of course, Erin who caught on first; her eyes taking in the light glinting off of the metal on Cally's left hand. She tried to catch the other woman's eyes, but Cally was far more intent on voicing her opinion that they shouldn't let the DA cut any deals with anyone from the Krok. Voight was in agreement, but couldn't help but be slightly amused at Cally's impassioned ranting.
Finally after watching her throwing up her hands and saying "but what do I know?" Erin couldn't take it any more. "Hold up, Callahan, what the hell is that?"
"What's what?" Cailin replied, trying to look innocent.
"Is that what you had to go do this morning?" Her hazel gaze bore down on her friend, rooting her to the spot.
"Maybe..." Cally mumbled, suddenly entranced with the floor tiles.
"Maybe, all you can say is 'maybe'?" Erin looked at her and shook her head.
"When either of you ladies," Voight interrupted, clearing his throat, "wanna fill the rest of us in, by all means, feel free."
Erin shot her friend a look before sliding up to sit on the top of her desk. Leaving Cailin wanting to crawl under it as the brunette detective loudly said, "Callahan has an announcement."
"Callahan has no such thing," Cailin hissed, looking at Antonio for help, though he just leaned back and said, "well you've got my attention."
"It's nothing, you guys, really. I am sorry I was late, it won't happen again," she said, feeling her face flush.
"Oh come off it!" Erin admonished. She rolled her eyes before breaking into a full dimpled grin, "Callahan was late because she was too busy getting engaged."
Voight's eyes slid from his one female detective to another. "Marine couldn't do it on your days off?" he replied, but his smile belied his words. "I'll be sure to remove the demerit from your file. Though I better not see one damn bridal magazine up here, Callahan."
Cally felt her face turn red as everyone stared at her. "You won't, sir, promise."
It was Antonio who spoke up next, "quit playing it so cool, Callahan. This is good news, congrats." He came from behind his desk, pulling her into a hug and while Cailin briefly stiffened, she had a feeling she better get used to it.
The rest of the team offered up their well wishes, Erin demanding a full debriefing at Molly's ASAP before Voight hustled them back to the task at hand.
Molly's, Cally thought, the rest of the gang, assuming all of 51 didn't already know, she would have to go through this again with them. And her family. Good God, her mother would be beside herself.
"It is good news, right?" Antonio asked, taking in Cally's pallor.
She shook her head, "yeah, of course, it's just...my family and 51, telling them, it's going to be..." she trailed off, "I just didn't have to deal with ths before..."
He let out a small laugh, lightly hip checking her. "You've been through worse, Callahan, including getting shot. I think you can handle announcing your engagement."
"When you put it that way, Dawson. Now come on, I want a run at Mykola."
The younger Dawson was peppering her lieutenant with a stream of questions. "When did you know? How could you be sure she would come up here? Do you think you'll have a big wedding? Does her family know? Does Matt know? Can I tell him or should I let Cally?"
"Take a breath, Canidate, or I'll make you run drills," Clarke teased. Gabby held her ground, waiting for answers. "Fine. I know she would come up because I know her, we haven't gotten to any planning yet, you just saw me ask her, Dawson. I did talk to Connor already, so I'm sure her family knows or will soon. I also don't know about anybody else, with the exception of Shay."
Gabby's eyes grew wider and she looked slightly wounded. "You told Leslie Shay and you didn't tell me? We're in the same house, Clarke!" Gabby caught one of the other guys glowering at them as she admonished him, quickly she worked to cover, "I mean Lieutenant, sir No disrespect meant." She hated how stiff and by the book this house was.
Clarke waited until the other man wandered off before giving Gabby a small smile, "none taken, candidate. But for someone planning her own wedding, you seem awfully interested in mine." He hoped his tone was light, but his meaning was sincere. He knew Gabby had tried to keep that part of her life out of the station, but he had overheard more than a few phone calls between her and Shay or Casey, and those were mild compared to the impassioned rapid-fire conversations in Spanish between Gabby and her mother.
"Maybe because I'm not planning one," she muttered under her breath before looking up with a smile. "I'm just excited and happy for you both, that's all. When Cally first got here and then after," she shrugged, "you know, she seemed lost and broken. But ever since that day you pulled her out of that bathroom...well, Shay and I saw it right away."
"Good to know, Dawson, now how about you go scrub the bathroom before Johnson goes complaining to the Chief about us?"
"On it, Lieutenant," Gabby said with a salute, before rushing away with a big smile. Though it faded as she scrubbed at the tiles in the shower stall. Not because she was doing scut work, every candidate had to do scut work, but because Clarke was right, she felt more excitement over watching him propose to Cally than she did about her own impending nuptials.
Things with Matt had been rocky, since his first accident really, trauma magnified after the building collapse. Yet she had been so eager to say yes to him, had been struck terrified that she wouldn't ever get the chance to say yes to him on that dark day. Things had been better lately, he was his old charming self the entire time they were in New York, taking her crazy Dominican family in stride. In eight months, she would be Mrs. Matthew Casey, so why wasn't she over the moon? Everything in her life was falling into place; she was getting everything she wanted. Or at least everything she thought she did. It was probably just nerves, and stress, and her mother, who was more a Bridezilla than she was. That had to be it, right?
Cailin had to wait for her run at Mykola, Voight wanting them to track down the names they had gotten from Zuzanna, Ivan and, the just released from the hospital, Frank. A lot of low-level thugs, but he was taking any notches on his bedpost that he could get. Especially since Stillwater was sniffing around, wondering why Detective Callahan hadn't been given a longer administrative leave. Voight not so kindly told him to quit telling him how to run his department, as well as informing him where he could stick it; but Stillwell wasn't willing to give up that easily. Voight just wished he could get something concrete on the guy to give up to McCarthy, but so far it hadn't happened; at least not in a way that still kept his own nose clean and the Brass out of the IU.
While Voight went MIA and they dealt with knocking down doors and hauling in the Eurotrash, Cailin felt herself growing restless. It didn't help that they had stretched their time with Alec & Mykola in the IU cages to its limit. HQ wanted to know why the hell the two hadn't been perp walked through the media frenzy waiting outside central booking. Everyone had taken a run at the pair, using every trick in the book, all while desperately trying to keep the case out of the clutches of the Feds. Alec finally lawyered up, but Ruzek and Olinsky were still spending some QT with him below. Lindsay and Halstead were trying to keep Commander Perry distracted when Cailin decided she wanted one last shot with Mykola.
Dawson followed her in to the interview room they had stuck him in to give Olinsky and Ruzek a little more privacy, but didn't say anything as he leaned against the wall, letting the blonde detective sit across from him, opening a file folder.
"Interesting read here, Mykola. You've certainly made the name for yourself in Chicago."
The man just stared at her, his brown eyes hooded and vacant. "But I don't really want to talk about Chicago, we already have you dead to rights on all that. Especially since my fellow detectives are downstairs with Alec singing like a nightingale. No. I would rather talk about New York. Nice place, the Big Apple." Cailin paused for his reaction, acutely aware of Antonio's curiosity. "Can't say I ever got out to Brighton Beach much, though."
Mykola continued to stare at her, his eyes taking in her every feature. It sent chills down Cailin's spine, but she didn't avert her gaze, raising her chin a fraction of an inch, challenging him.
He finally answered, "I don't much either. That is where my wife lives." A wicked grin spread across his face, gone the instant it formed.
Cailin's stomach rolled, but at least he had said something. She glanced briefly back at Antonio, who was still standing, arms tossed over his chest. He raised his eyebrows slightly. She took it as a sign to continue. "So where do you spend most of your time then?"
"Here and there, in the company of beautiful women, mostly."
"How nice for you," Cally quipped, "probably not as much for them," she said, looking at him pointedly.
"I don't get many complaints," he leered, reaching forward and attempting to stroke her hand. She drew it back, resisting the urge to stab it with the pen in her other hand. Antonio stepped forward, giving Mykola a warning look.
"Probably because you drug most of your companions, isn't that right, Mykola?" Cailin pressed, though she leaned back in her chair away from him, the briefest of touches from him bringing back too many memories of Nansenko. Which was exacerbated by that man's next words.
"I help many young women find men who will take care of them; rich men, powerful men. So as I said, not many complaints, some of them just need a little…guidance." A light gleamed in his eyes as another slow smile spread across his face, though he showed no teeth.
Cailin could practically feel the world stop, the air growing heavy as he looked at her.
"Take this one pretty little blonde, like a, what is that phrase, girl next door? I had a buyer all ready for her, one of those oil princes. Wanted an American cheerleader type. He was very hard to please; this one too trashy, that one too fat. Finally, I find the perfect girl, maybe a little too old, but looks young enough; innocent, yet feisty. Too bad she turned out to be nothing more than a filthy pig." He spat the last work at her, the wad of saliva hitting her as she vaulted over the table at him, her hands going around his neck, both them and his chair tipping backwards to the floor.
Antonio was on them both in a second, forcibly ripping Cailin off of Mykola, who was laughing at the woman's fury despite being stuck on his back like a handcuffed turtle. "Still feisty, I see, New York City cop. Too bad about Nansenko…and your partner."
Cailin struggled to break free of Antonio's grip, but he kept his hand clamped tightly around her bicep, though he didn't prevent her from landing a swift kick to the man's side, silencing his laughing and leaving him gasping for air.
Antonio wrenched her back, saying, "that's enough, Callahan."
"Enough? Are you kidding me, Dawson, he just said-" Cailin shot back, not believing he was stopping her. Wasn't this the point of IU, make them talk, no matter what? Not to mention the piece of crap had just admitted he had someone lined up to buy her.
"I heard what he said and I am sure Voight will also be very interested in it, so why don't you go take a breather while I go tell him about it?" Antonio all but shoved her out the door, slamming it behind them as he told Erin to sit on Cally if she had to to keep her out of the room.
"I take it that didn't go well?" Erin said, giving her friend a look as she paced back and forth in front of the desks.
Cailin chewed on her thumbnail before answering, "depends on your perspective, I suppose. At least I'm not some sex slave to a Saudi Prince."
"Why do I get the feeling we have even more to talk about at Molly's other than you getting engaged?" Erin retorted.
Cailin's head shot up, engaged? Oh right, she was engaged. She had fallen down the rabbit hole of memories. The weight of the sapphire ring on her hand broke her back to the present, her phone buzzing in her pocket. A text from Jeff. Her fiancé.
Voight and Dawson came storming back through IU, Olinsky close behind them. They went straight to the room where Mykola was still stuck on his back, dragging him out and down in the direction of the cages, Voight pausing briefly to snap, "Callahan, get the hell out of here and go home. Now!"