Chapter 17: Hang Fire

Cailin did as she had been ordered. She had been engaged for 33 hours and hadn't been home. Jeff had left her plenty of messages; from his shift and after, letting her know all was well on his front and that dinner was waiting on her whenever she got home.

Less than two days in and she was already the world's worst fiancée. And daughter/sister/friend if you included all the other voice mails and texts she was ignoring. Dinner was waiting, but Jeff wasn't, a scrawled note saying he was going to a study group he wouldn't be out late. She picked briefly at the plate, her exhaustion greater than her appetite, heading to a bed that was emptier and colder than she would have liked after her face off with Mykola. Which is probably what sparked the nightmare she was in the throes of when Clarke let himself into the condo a bit later, practically flying down the hallway and into the bedroom when he heard the sounds of a struggle.

"Cailin, it's okay, it's just a nightmare," he said, reaching for her foot like she was a soldier at Camp Baharia. She bolted upright, scrambling as though trying to locate her service weapon, which was locked in the gun safe like every night.

"Damn it, Jeff," she swore, taking in his form at the end of the bed.

"Rough day?" he asked, raising his eyebrows, far more worried than offended. The best thing about them being together was keeping the nightmares and beasts at bay, so for her to be slipping back into them must mean something was up.

Cally scratched at her head before rubbing her eyes, "sorry, not exactly the paragon of sexy fiancée to come home to, huh?"

The corners of his mouth lifted into a slight smile, even as his gaze remained serious and weighted on hers. "Given that you didn't actually shoot me, I'm going with still pretty sexy." He divested himself of his clothing, sliding in next to her under the covers, wrapping his arm around her. "Wanna talk about it?" he asked after she snuggled against his side.

"Not yet," she replied, "I just need our bubble for a bit."

"Then consider us quarantined," he replied, kissing her on top of her head and pulling her closer.

Clarke could tell by the way she didn't completely relax into his arms that Cailin was still ruminating over something, if the nightmare he had walked in on hadn't been enough. He responded to her queries about the study group and his latest shift, trying to keep things light, deciding to avoid bringing up Gabby's seemingly mixed reaction. And then he stayed quiet, letting her work through whatever it was that was weighing on her, she had certainly done it enough for him. There had been plenty of shifts he had come home with a bad scene following behind him and she would take one look at him and know whether it was time to grab the coffee pot or the whiskey bottle, knowing when to keep her distance or when he needed the comfort of her arms around him; sitting next to him in silence until he was ready to either set it aside or be out with it. He was more than willing to return the favor.

Cailin could feel the tension remaining despite Clarke's strong arms around her. She listened as he caught her up on the goings on over the past day and a half, though she could tell he was holding slightly back. Which she hated, part of the reason she had fallen in love with him was that he didn't treat her like something about to break, even when she close to doing so. She stayed lying on his chest, listening to his heartbeat even after he fell silent. It wasn't uncomfortable silence, more it filled the room around them with the anxiety that was clearly emanating off of Clarke. She let out a sigh, moving out of his arms and flopping on her back, before letting out a frustrated, "I'm sorry, Jeff. It's this damn case."

"Hey, Cal, it's fine. It's not like I don't bring home my bad days with me, we're not robots," he replied, turning to look at her, stopping himself from reaching out for her as she rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands as though she was having to physically hold back tears. "Talk to me, Cailin," he pressed, his concern morphing into full worry.

She removed her hands, but remained staring up at the ceiling, unable to look at him. "Just another day in IU; taking out some Eastern European mobsters, knocking pieces of scum around in the cages, and finding out how close I was to being sold to a Saudi Prince, no big deal."

"Come again?" Clarke replied, bolting upright, though forcing his tone to remain calm.

"Apparently Nansenko was supplying Mykola with girls for more than just parties and upscale brothels. Apparently your girl next door girlfriend could have fetched quite the sum, or at least I could have when I could still pass for the cheerleader type." She let out a long breath, throwing her arms over her eyes, wondering why it was still weighing on her so much.

Clarke couldn't take it, the frustration and pain practically radiating off Cally's body. He gently, but firmly, pulled her arms away from her face and slid her onto his lap. "Please tell me that asshole was one of the pieces of scum being knocked around in the cage," he said, his anger clear in his voice.

Cailin nodded, "yeah, or at least they were headed that way after Antonio dragged me off of him." She gave him a wry smile, "pretty sure I never was the cheerleader type."

He let out a noise between a grunt and a laugh. "Wouldn't want you any other way, Callahan. And it's fiancée by the way," he added, briefly spinning her ring around her finger before threading his fingers through hers.

"You still sticking to that even after finding out I was almost sold as a sex slave?" she squeezed his hand, a false smile on her face, her eyes giving away her worry.

"There's a hell of a lot worse in my past, Cally and you love me, and not in spite of it, so yeah, I'm sticking to it. Would marry you tomorrow except your family would kill me and I think you deserve an actual wedding."

His statement turned her smile genuine. "Oh what, the big bad Marine is afraid of a couple of mick's from Mount Greenwood? Need I remind you of your attempted takedown of an armed gang with a baseball bat, Jeff?"

"They don't scare me, Callahan, couple of Skippers, a contractor, a priest and a mechanic; I think I can take them," he teased back, "it's your mother I'm terrified of."

"You should probably stay that way, she filled my voicemail over the past 36 hours. I can't believe you tried to ask Connor permission, by the way. I would be offended, but it's kinda cute," she said, leaning in and pressing her forehead against his.

He narrowed his eyes. "I wasn't really going for cute, Cally," he said, before giving her a smirk and flipping her onto her back and showing her everything but cute.

"So if you would marry me tomorrow, I'm guessing you don't want a big USMC wedding then, huh?" Cailin asked later, once again settled on Clarke's chest, though completely relaxed this time.

"I'm not really a Marine anymore," he replied, enjoying her warm body draped across him. He felt her shift, opening his eyes and seeing the look she was giving him. "Cut me some slack, Callahan. You know what I mean."

"This is a second go around for both of us, Jeff, and neither of us really got what we wanted the first time, right? So I was just asking, wanted to make sure you didn't want something like your buddy's wedding in California." She gave a slight shrug, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the whole conversation.

Clarke couldn't help but smile at her slight discomfort; the exact opposite of most recently engaged women. He kissed the top of her head saying, "Babe, he's still active in the Marines. I'm a sort of firefighter and a med student, so no military weddings for me."

" And also no firehouse weddings while everyone is on shift, please," she quipped with dark humor.

"I am pretty sure Boden has banned firehouse weddings and if he hasn't, he should," Clarke replied.

"Agreed," Cailin said, before yawning and nuzzling his neck saying, "sweet dreams, Clarke," as she drifted off into a restful slumber.

"What's this?" Cailin asked early the next morning, picking up the envelope addressed to her that Clarke had leaned against her coffee cup while she was getting ready. "Please tell me my mother did not send over invitation samples already because I didn't freaking call her back!"

"It is an actual invitation, Cal, to the 100 Club awards banquet. Was in that same mountain of mail as-" Clarke broke off, turning back to the stove.

Cailin ignored where he was going, sipping on her coffee as she read the enclosed details. Awards ceremony next week at City Hall during the day, dress uniform required; by invitation only banquet that evening, black tie required. "So why did we get an invite to the dinner?" she asked, setting it on the counter.

Clarke turned slightly, cocking an eyebrow, "Boden's wedding, scrap fire turned big, building went boom, any of this ringing a bell?"

"Yeah, so you ran back into a burning building multiple times to save your brethren. But why did I get one? I thought only cops who managed to take down roving gangs without force got invited to this," she replied.

"You were at that fire too and did you forget about that time back in May when you got shot protecting a child and trying to protect your fellow officers? I knew they should have let you keep that bullet they dug out of you."

"I tried, they kept saying it was a bio-hazard," she shot back with a shrug before looking slightly panicked, "damn, I don't have anything to wear."

He couldn't help but laugh, "I think you being up in IU with Erin is turning you into a girl, babe. Just buy something."

"Says the almost GQ model, you could buy a tux off the street and look amazing," Cailin replied, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a peck on the cheek.

Clarke drew her in for a slightly longer kiss before goosing her. "Flattery will get you everywhere and breakfast. Sit and eat before you go knocking anyone around in the cages."

She complied with a laugh, sliding into a chair at the table. "Like Voight lets me down in the cages," she said digging in.

"Probably for the best," he teased, sitting across from her, watching as she picked up her buzzing phone, rejecting another call. "Your mother again?"

"Text from Matt, call from Gabby," she said, feeling slightly guilty for ignoring her friends and family.

Clarke nodded, chewing carefully as he thought about his candidate's reaction. "Maybe you and Gabby could go dress shopping this weekend, doesn't she have practice at that sort of thing?" He watched as Cailin's eyes grew wide and slightly wild. "For the banquet," he tacked on, "don't look so panicked, Cal." He reached across the table and grabbed her hand, "you do want to do this, right? You didn't just say yes to me because of…" he trailed off.

Cally squeezed his hand back, "no, of course I want to! I said yes because I love you, Jeff and do want to marry you." She withdrew her hand and went back to her breakfast, pausing briefly to add, "just maybe not in February or May, those seem to be kind of cursed months for me."

"If we're playing that game, I am vetoing September and June," Clarke replied with a wry smile.

"Duly noted, can we add January to the list too? It's the worst of winter," she added.

Clarke's eyebrows rose, "should we be writing this down, I feel like we are running out of months."

Cailin let out a small snort, "and we haven't even gotten to trying to coordinate everyone's shift schedules and your school schedule." She held up her buzzing phone, "oh look, it's my mother again, probably wants to give her opinion on what month we should get married in."

Clarke watched as she hit the ignore button again. "You do know you have to talk to her eventually, right?"

Cally shrugged, "hey I got married once without her knowing." She took in Clarke's wounded expression, it wasn't that she wasn't happy or even excited, it was just she wasn't good with all the attention being on her, and it seemed everyone was wanting to shine a spotlight on her. Not to mention her mother would be practically insufferable until the 'I dos' were said. Actually, her mother would probably be insufferable until there were a bunch of mini Jeff and Cailins climbing all over everything but that was a whole other battle. She sighed as her phone started buzzing again, a text she couldn't ignore. "I know, I know, I'll deal with her, but I right now, I gotta get to work because Voight scares me more than my mother. Enjoy learning about all kinds of crazy infections!"

"Watch your six, babe," Clarke said, giving her a kiss as he walked her to the door.

Chapter 18: Hearts on Fire

Cailin entered a nearly empty IU; though it was still early, especially given their usual late starting hours. But after her admin leave and being sent home the night before, Cailin figured she needed to put in face time. The only two people currently occupying their upstairs nook were Voight and Olinsky, with Alvin leaning back in his chair and Hank perched on his desk. They both stopped speaking as soon as Cailin stepped fully into the pen.

"You two could give a girl a complex," she quipped, trying to ignore the heaviness in the air.

"Callahan, my office, now!" Voight commanded.

Cailin blinked, following quickly after him, hating that this was starting to feel a little like her days down in VCU. Maybe she wasn't as good of a cop as she thought she was.

"Shut the door," Voight said as soon as she stepped over the threshold. She did so, remaining standing in front of his desk even after he said, "sit," though his tone was more level now.

She took a breath, "I'm fine, sir."

"Well that's a damn miracle," Voight replied, studying her closely.

She fought down a shudder, forcing her face to remain a mask, wondering what she had been called to task for this time.

"You left some nasty bruising around Mykola's neck, Callahan. Defense lawyer might have a field day with that."

Bruise marks? She was going to get her ass chewed about bruise marks and from a loose cannon of a man that was given his own off-the-books department with cages in an abandoned loading dock? Cailin blew a lock of hair out of her face before clenching her jaw.

"Though after he started bragging, those were the least of his worries. Might want to confine things to less visible areas next time though, sunshine," he continued, wishing she would just sit down already. But no, she just stubbornly stood there, looking through him and not giving an inch. Typical. And exactly why she was able to remain standing in a more figurative sense. "Seems you forgot a few details about the Nansenko case, or at least they didn't make it to your file," Voight continued, using his index finger to shove a folder her way.

Cailin caught her personnel number from the NYPD on the tab; stepping forward and pushing it right back toward him. "I've read it, sir, I know exactly what is in there and what isn't. Let's just say my old CO wasn't quite as willing to lie for us as you are."

"So you going to tell me the truth?" he asked, gently pressing, not breaking her gaze. This was enough to get her to drop down into the chair facing his desk.

"What good is it now?" Cailin asked, absently spinning her ring around her finger, wishing this beast would just lie down and die already.

Voight let out a gust of air. "Might help in knowing what Mykola is lying about or not."

Cailin reached out for the file, drawing it carefully off the desk, setting it on her lap, though she kept it closed.

"Two weeks, Callahan?" he asked, his tone one of disbelief and awe.

She shrugged, "or so I've been told, I didn't really have a concept of time after we left the yacht."

"Did you know it was Mykola's estate you were found in?"

This gave the blonde detective a start. She shook her head, "no, Nansenko seemed familiar enough with that room, I assumed…" she trailed off, forcing down the memories. Those seemingly endless days and nights in that windowless room, blindfolded, arms chained above her head. The beatings, the ice baths, unknown rough hands roaming…

"As I said, what good will it do now, Hank?" she said, standing and leaning to drop the file on his desk, laying her palm flat on it, her ring catching the light from his desk lamp. They both looked down at it and then back at each other. "My old life ended that day, I'm trying my damnedest to start a new one. The best way to tell if Mykola is lying or not… if it sounds too depraved to possibly have happened, he is telling the truth. I am glad Dawson pulled me off of him yesterday, because I would have killed him and even hell isn't good enough for any of those bastards." She stared him down, her eyes somehow both vacant and like blue flames. "Are we good here, sir?"

He nodded, waiting until she straightened and turned to walk out the door before saying, "I'm not sure how you've kept it together, Callahan, but I'm glad to have you on my team."

She paused, not turning around, looking down at her hand again. "I have a pretty good idea how I have kept it together the past year, Voight. Glad I'm up here too, not apologizing for Mykola's bruises though."

Voight let out a small chuckle, "just have Alvin teach you how to not leave a mark."

Voight sent her and Dawson out to run the roads on some old cases, hoping to dig up enough on some bangers to keep the Mayor's office happy. Antonio kept giving her sidelong glances all day, until finally she wrestled the keys away from him and said, "if you are going to keep gawking, I'm driving, Dawson."

"You're as bad as Erin," he said, shaking his head. "So was that piece of scum telling the truth?" he asked finally.

Cailin jerked the car over to the curb, throwing it roughly into park. "I don't know, Antonio." She held up her hand as she glared at him, "and more importantly, I don't want to know what he said to you to tell you if he was telling the truth. I don't know who all was in that room when and, thankfully, I also don't know what all happened. I was blindfolded and drugged for a lot of it. I blacked out on some other stuff. All I know is at the end of it, my partner was dead and I was alive and made a promise to keep going until every piece of shit like Nansenko was rotting in prison. I am glad Mykola talked, because I am sure he gave himself enough rope to hand himself with, but that doesn't mean I want to go tripping down memory lane. I came to Chicago for a reason and found even more reasons to stay, and I am going to focus on those and my job. Which right now is to wrestle up a few new CIs and get Stillwell and City Hall off our backs, so do you think we can go do that?"

Stumbling her way through a computer program later, Cailin became aware of Olinsky staring at her from across the way. "Jesus Christ, not you too, Alvin," she said, turning back to her keyboard and typing furiously.

"What's up with her?" Atwater asked to Ruzek's shrugging.

She ignored the long look between Erin, Jay and Antonio. Or tried to. "That's it, I am done being the latest exhibit in this zoo. I'll be at Molly's if anyone needs me." With that she gathered her things and left to meet Clarke who had already texted her that he was there.

The bar was quieter than she expected, but given the lack of any major sports games on and how nice the evening was, she wasn't entirely shocked. Everyone seemed to be crammed into places with patios or were just strolling along enjoying the night air. Hermann was behind the bar, but on the phone with Cindy, listening to the latest antics of his children. Mills, Severide and Clarke were on the end closest to the door, a mini-squad reunion, and they seemed to be actively ignoring the "newbies" from 51 at the far end. In between the two, Shay was sitting with Rafferty, who was rolling her eyes at the antics at the far end of the bar while Shay texted angrily on her phone.

"I may as well just tattoo a big 'L' on my forehead, losing out to stupid Matt Casey once again," Shay said, puffing out her cheeks in frustration.

Cally placed herself in between the two groupings, pointing to a tap while Hermann kept talking on the phone; everyone else so engrossed in their conversations, they hadn't noticed her slip in.

"Everyone knows you are gay, Shay," Rafferty quipped, garnering a narrow-eyed glare from Shay and a snort of laughter from Cally.

It was then Clarke realized who was standing next to him, taking in Cailin's forced smile at Shay and Rafferty, noticing the tiny furrow from her clenching her jaw. His arm slipped around her waist, pulling her closer to him, not turning as he pressed her against his side; a light squeeze of her hipbone enough for her to know that he could tell it had been a rough day.

Shay caught the movement, grumbling "freaking couples everywhere tonight."

Cailin arched an eyebrow at Rafferty, looking for an explanation. "You just missed Casey and Dawson," Rafferty supplied, "and those two have been mooning over each other since before we got here," she said, pointing to the table in the back.

Cailin followed the woman's finger, catching sight of Joe Cruz and his nurse girlfriend, Taylor, holding hands across the table, goofy grins on both their faces. "I think it's sweet," Cally replied, even as she surprised herself in saying so.

"Who are you?" Shay teased, frowning, "has being engaged changed you already, Cal?"

"Wait, you two got engaged?" Rafferty asked, gesturing from Cally to Clarke.

Cailin nodded, squirming slightly, bracing herself for an onslaught of questions. Curious as a storm cloud passed over Allison Rafferty's face as she said, "that's great," her tone implying anything but.

"Oh wait, things are looking up," Shay said, looking down at the text she just received on her phone. "Hot redhead I met at Spyner's wants to meet up," she replied waggling her eyebrows.

"What happened with the lawyer?" Clarke asked, giving her a look.

"Boring and bossy, worst combination ever," she said, shaking her head, "later."

She was gone in a flash, leaving Mills to remark, "her injuries may have kept her off ambo but they haven't slowed her down, huh?"

Cally and Clarke left shortly after, deciding to enjoy the walk home in the night air. Cally left a slight distance between them, frustrated at the weight of her latest case. She just had to let it go, that was all there was to it. But having Voight question her, and the looks that Dawson and Olinsky kept giving her…what had Mykola told them? What did he know that she didn't? She shuddered, rubbing at the goosebumps that rose on her skin, Clarke's arm once again finding its way around her waist, pulling her next to him again. Though this time he stopped, turning her toward him, pulling her into his chest. Thankfully he didn't say anything, didn't ask anything. Just held her, moving them away from the pedestrian traffic on Milwaukee. The simple act of not interrogating, or intruding or judging was enough to push Cailin over the edge. She crumbled in his arms; the safety and strength of them making her feel safe enough to fall apart. She buried her face in the fabric of his long-sleeved tee, and just let the tears flow.

Clarke felt shoulders gently shaking as he squeezed a little tighter, burying his face in her hair, fighting to hold back his own tears; he hated her being in pain, wished he could have a few minutes alone with that piece of Russian scum in those cages of Voight's. But he knew that wasn't what she needed. She had gotten in her own licks, and he knew enough about IU to know if anyone hurt a member of the pack, the punishment would be severe.

Something in her simultaneously broke and mended as they stood on the side street. A switch was flipped and her tears dried up, Clarke's arms tethering her to the here and now. She looked up at him, seeing a bright future in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Jeff," she started, but she didn't get to finish her statement, his lips meeting hers firmly.

"No, no apologies. We are there for each other, Cally. Always," he said, when he broke off the kiss. "You have cut right to here," he said, tapping his chest, "since the moment I laid eyes on you, Cailin Callahan and I will give you the whole damn world if I can, but I won't listen to you apologize about anything having to do with what happened in New York."

There were equal measures of anger and love in his tone, rendering Cally speechless enough so she could just nod. "Good, then let's go back to the condo and maybe set aside some time to start looking for our own home." He smiled down at her, his eyes still clouded with a slight bit of sadness, wishing he could save her emotions as easily as he had saved her, not realizing he had already rescued her heart.

Chapter 19: Fire Woman

"For the love of all that is holy, mother! For the fifth time, I am not ducking you! Yes, we will come to dinner tomorrow night, I am just trying to catch up on my sleep!" Cailin snapped into her phone the next morning after Clarke had left for shift.

"I take it your mother is excited about your recent engagement?" came Erin Lindsay's voice over the line. "Oh Jesus Christ, Erin, please tell me Voight isn't calling a meeting. I thought he said we could take the weekend."

Erin chuckled, "oh he did, in fact he kicked me out of IU when I showed up to try to do some paperwork."

"But he's allowed to work?" Cally replied, pulling herself up and climbing out of bed, smiling at the coffee already waiting in the carafe on the counter.

"His unit, his rules. You know Hank," Erin shot back. "Anyway, since I've already busted up your beauty sleep, I was wondering if you might be interested in helping me pick out a dress for this Hundred Club banquet we are supposed to make a command appearance at?"

Cailin let out a sigh, "oh yeah that. I suppose I should find a dress."

"Your excitement is overwhelming, Callahan," Erin dripped.

"Not all of us come and go by bubble, Lindsay," Cailin shot back, "but I guess it will be nice to see everyone and have a night out on the town. I just always feel like I am playing dress up and look like a cupcake."

A broad grin formed across the brunette detective's face. "I think that should be Hank's new nickname for you."

Cailin let out a small growl, "you wouldn't dare."

Erin laughed, "meet me on Oak Street in an hour."

"You got a sugar daddy I don't know about," Cally asked, knowing how high-priced the Gold Coast street was.

"I know somebody," Erin quipped.

"Of course you do, Lindsay."

"I was planning on using my savings on a wedding, Erin, not a damn froo froo dress for some boring banquet dinner. Can't I just rent something?" Cailin said, looking up and down the posh street, feeling horribly underdressed and out of her league. Despite other cops and firefighters thinking Mt. Greenwood was fancy, it really wasn't. At its heart, it was a working-class Irish neighborhood; one both sides of her family had lived in for generations. Sure, she and her brothers were now priced out of it, but none of them had silver spoons in their mouths growing up.

Erin, despite her rough upbringing, looked completely at ease. "Quit your bitching, Callahan, I told you, I know somebody." Her reply caused a pair of yoga mat carrying sticks to stop and stare at them, both detectives leveling glares at the other women until they scampered into the nearest coffee shop.

Erin did, as promised, know somebody. A lithe up and coming designer with a shop above the old money masses who formerly was a who know went by Valentina and knew Erin from 'before'. The details were sparse other than she had been a CI, but the champagne was plentiful and as delicious as the frocks Valentina had set aside for them to try on.

"What are you going to tell me about first, the engagement or what Mykola said to have you strangle him?" Erin asked right as Cally had disrobed in the dressing room.

Cally had a feeling the timing was on purpose. "I don't know Erin, you wanna tell me about why Shay keeps complaining about Kelly's spinning out or why Halstead keeps mooning over you at work?"

"Touche," Erin retorted as Valentina called out, "I see I have two live wires to wardrobe today. I can't believe the good lord created two of you, Miss Thing."

"He didn't," Cally replied, stepping out after shimmying into the first dress, trying to ignore how much in plunged here and how high it was cut there. "She can run circles of sass around me any day," she paused as Erin stepped out as well, "and look a thousand times better than me doing it. Glad I already nabbed Jeff."

"Oh, so we're talking engagement first. Fine, carry on," Erin said, looking ethereal in a blush colored, flowing gown.

"He asked, I said yes, we love each other, logical next step. You don't really strike me as the roses and chocolates kind of girl, Lindsay," Cailin trailed off as she the storm clouds pass over her friend's eyes. "You aren't jealous are you, Erin?" she asked, slightly shocked. She couldn't believe that she had anything that Detective Hairporn couldn't flash her dimples at and snap her fingers and immediately obtain, but it seemed to be the case. Cailin shook her head, "seriously, Erin? Have you seen you? Met you? I am sure, if it is something you want, it won't be long in coming. I know Severide was a dope who messed up the best thing he could ever hope to have, but that doesn't mean you are going to die alone eaten by cats!"

Erin forced herself to not react. She wasn't normally a romantic, not really. Or more accurately, she didn't let herself be; it was emotionally safer that way and she had been crushed too many times in the past. But something about Kelly Severide had pierced her armor even if he did let her down. She was forced to admit she was slightly jealous of the newly engaged Cally. Which is why she wanted to join in some uncharacteristic girl-talk, to hear the whole tale, to giggle or whatever it was that normal girls did. She should have known better than to expect Callahan to partake in such normalcies. And now here she was calling her out on her deep dark secret: that Erin Lindsay did actually want to fall in love and get married. "I'm not saying I want that, I don't really think I'm really the marrying type."

Valentina and Cally exchanged a look. "Uh-huh." "Sure."

"This dress is too angelic for me, V, what else you got?" Erin said, desperate to change the subject.

After wrenching every last detail out of Cally about the engagement, Erin finally let her friend try on the other dresses Valentina had set aside for them, with Cailin finally settling on a midnight gown that showed off enough of her figure to keep the designer and her friend happy but covered enough with strategic lace to keep her comfortable.

They left the shop, chatting and laughing like so many other women on the well-heeled street. Until some meth-head try to jack an old lady's purse and both women dropped their garment bags and went into full cop mode chasing him down. They sat on him, literally, until the precinct uniforms rolled up, snickering. "Effing bitches," the meth head whined as Cally's elbow met its mark when he laughed at the snickering.

"Keep it up, chuckles," Erin warned, huskily. "I don't know about you, but I think I worked up an appetite chasing down this scum. I know a great little hole in the wall, Joe's."

Cally shrugged, "I could eat, of course I usually can and if I'm eating, I can't answer my constantly ringing phone."

Erin studied her for a moment before softly saying, "Most women would be more excited about this, you know."

Her friend let out a long breath. "I know. It's not that I'm not excited. I just…we have both been married before, and it turned out poorly, to say the least, for both of us."

"You could say that," Erin replied, tossing her head back with a laugh.

"I don't want to discount either of our histories, good or bad, so it feels kind of weird making a big deal out of this. I'm not really a big deal kind of girl, ya know?"

"Oh, I know," she nodded in agreement, "but you aren't discounting anything, Callahan. You and Clarke got a good thing, celebrate it; it is allowed, encouraged even. So what if you were both married before? You two found each other now, enjoy it."

"We've only known each other a year, though."

Erin rolled her eyes, growing impatient. "And your point is? You two act like you've known each other a lifetime. Not to mention, as you just pointed out, you aren't dumb kids rushing into anything."

Cally wrinkled her nose, deep in thought. "I guess you are right."

Erin's eyebrows shot up and down as a mischievous, dimpled smile spread across her face, "usually am."

"He's coming, I promise. I told you he was with a bunch of the guys helping Hermann with some house repairs. Apparently one of his kids fell through the back porch last week. I seriously don't know how Cindy puts up with all of it." Cally caught the look between her mother and her sisters-in-law. "I saw that, the lot of you. Please stay out of my womb for the next few hours at least, would you?"

"I can't help it, my baby is getting married and she would make such beautiful babies with her handsome fireman," Mary Margaret exclaimed, dramatically dabbing at her eyes.

Cam saw the vein start to throb on his sister's forehead first, deftly refilling her glass from the bottle of wine on the table. "We'll be right back, I gotta go show Cally something outside."

The Callahan matriarch's eyebrows knitted together. "What do you have to show her now? It is dark out and dinner will be ready soon. Are you sure Jeff will be here in time, sweetie?"

Cailin's groan was cut-off by Cam dragging her outside. "They mean well, sis," he started.

"Yeah, well I see Elizabeth is conveniently not at this shit show," Cally countered.

"I told you she is chaperoning a class trip."

"As I said, convenient. Oh thank God," she said as Clarke's car pulled up behind one of her brother's.

"That is what your Marine drives, maybe I won't let you marry him," Cam teased, pointing at the sedan.

Cally glared at him, "I don't think it was his choice, Cameron Philip!"

Clarke chuckled as he walked up, watching Cally's hands go to her hips as she dressed her brother down for something, though he covered it quickly as her icy look turned to him. "Having fun without me, I see," he said, unable to hide the slight smirk.

Cailin tried her best to look perturbed, but her security blanket had arrived and she immediately felt her tension dissipate as she closed the distance between them, her arms wrapping around him of their own accord.

"Bite me, Cam," she said over her shoulder as her brother made gagging noises, "go tell Ma the guest of honor is here and we'll be right in."

"Fine, but if you don't get in there soon, she'll have Conner or Colin turn the hose on you two," he warned with a broad grin as he jogged back toward the house.

"You okay?" Cailin asked on their drive back home. She worried about his quietness, not that he was ever really verbose, but there was something in his expression. He had held his own at dinner, and those in attendance had actually been on pretty good behavior. It had only been awkward when Coleman's wife seemed to forget Cailin was previously married and subsequently widowed, but the concurrent squalling of their infant provided enough of an excuse for her forgetfulness.

Clarke nodded. He was, truly, but the dinner had been a bit overwhelming. Not to mention it made him miss what he never had growing up. Most of his dinners involved his older brother heating something in the microwave and not letting him watch what her wanted on TV while their mother worked late at her second job.

"I know they can seem like a lot and this was without everyone there...but they do mean well. At least I think they do. This is why I moved away, why I wanted out of Mount G so bad when I moved back. And they like you, the teasing means they like you, Jeff; otherwise they would give you the cold shoulder. You can ask Matt. And even if they didn't like you, it doesn't matter because I love you! And ignore my mother, please, we don't really have to get married in the same church my parents did, I swear, not to mention it is probably booked for the next ten year-"

Clarke braked heavily, smirking slightly. "Callahan, take a breath, would you?"

She nodded and complied, still tense as she worried about what he was thinking.

"Your family is fine, really. Yes, there are a lot of them, and yes, they are pretty opinionated. At least I know you come by it honestly," he teased, ducking as she swatted at him. "Being there actually made me kind of jealous, I didn't have that growing up, and I wish I had." He paused, remaining quiet for a long moment, the air in the car growing slightly heavy.

Cailin's hand reached across the car, sliding up his arm and pulling his hand off the steering wheel as she thread her fingers through his. "I wish you would have had that growing up, too."

He worked his jaw, swallowing down his emotions, taking in the heat and comfort of Cally's hand in his, the metal of her ring reminding him of the promise of a future with her and he silently vowed that their children would grow up in a house full of love and loud family dinners.

As if she could almost read his mind, he felt Cally squeeze his hand gently and say, "I'm sorry I won't get to meet your mother, but I can tell you she has a damn fine son. I'll love you forever, cowboy."