The ice skating rink was only a few miles away so they drove separately rather than leave one car in the mall parking lot. They met at the door and he paid their way in, claiming it was the least he could do after she had helped him shop.
The majority of the crowd that populated the rink was either teenagers or young couples. Calleigh and Eric, although young, were not a couple so they resorted to acting like teenagers. The first thing they did was race, of course. Calleigh kept winning until finally, Eric came zooming up behind her and didn't stop. He grabbed her around the waist and tried to let his momentum carry them but she fought back. They tumbled to the ice together, sprawled out, arms and legs tangled.
They ended up like that several more times, until Eric admitted defeat. They hobbled off the ice, Eric with a bruise forming on his right cheek and Calleigh with what she was sure was a black and blue backside. They ordered some hot chocolate and then sat in a booth, facing each other.
"Remind me never to get in a fight with you," he said, gingerly running a finger over his bruise. "Does it look bad?"
She grinned widely. "It looks like you got beat up!" she chirped. "Are you going to tell everyone it was me?"
"Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you?"
"Well, I do have a reputation to maintain. Bringing down the mighty Eric, that'd sure be a notch in my belt, wouldn't it?"
"Sure would. Would you like me to sign a statement for you, attesting to the truth and validity of your claim?"
"Oh honey, I have no pity for you, you brought this on yourself. If you hadn't grabbed my belt loop I would have been out of there."
"And let you get away? Never!"
They laughed again and finished up the rest of their hot chocolate.
"It's getting late, isn't it?" Calleigh asked, sounding disappointed.
"Yeah," he answered and then hesitated before continuing, "Calleigh, I had a really good time this evening."
"So did I Eric, thank you."
They left then and he walked her to her car, muttering the whole while that she should be the one to walk him to his car since she had stripped him of his masculine pride.
"The bigger the muscle, the bigger the baby," she teased, climbing into her car. "I'll see you tomorrow."
She shut her door and watched him walk to his own car, wondering why they had never done anything like this before. At least it was a start, though. It was nice to have finally gone out and had a good time. And it was also nice to know that she and Eric got along just as well outside of work as they did during.
She was exhausted when she arrived home and was grateful to crawl under her covers and fall sound asleep. For the first time in a long time she slept through the night.
The next morning, Calleigh and Eric were going through collected evidence when Horatio came in. He stopped short when he saw Eric's bruise.
"Eric, what the hell happened to you?"
"Calleigh beat me up," Eric said calmly as he continued examining a shirt.
Horatio looked from Eric to Calleigh, who hadn't even looked up from the pair of pants she was inspecting, and then back to Eric, trying to figure out the joke.
"Well," he said finally, "you don't ask about my sex life so I won't ask about yours." With that he walked out.
Seconds later the room was filled with their laughter.
"What did he come in here for?" she asked, catching her breath.
"I think we caught him off guard and he forgot."
"So somewhere out there is a disconcerted Horatio," she said. "Do you think the world is ready for that?"
"I guess we'll have to wait and see," he answered with a quirk of his lips. "Oh look, a hair." He held it up for her to see before he dropped it into an envelope.
"Very nice," she said and they lapsed back into silence.
For the next ten minutes neither said anything until Eric spoke up again.
"Do you have plans for tonight?"
"No, why, do you want a rematch?"
"Think you're cute, don't you? But no, that's not what I had in mind."
"Oh? Then what were you thinking?"
What he'd been thinking of all night and most of the morning had actually been the lingerie she had bought the night before, and the best way he could take it off of her, but he couldn't tell her that.
"How about dinner?"
"Ooh, someplace nice, I hope?"
"Of course," he said, refolding the shirt he'd been working on. "I'll pick you up at seven." He then picked up the envelope containing the hair. "Right now, however, I've got an appointment with DNA."
It wasn't until later that Calleigh realized that the plans she and Eric had made for that evening could be misconstrued as a date, but she quickly put it out of her mind. It was certainly not a date because two adult friends could go out and have a good time without having anything romantic involved.
That was no reason not to look nice, though, so when she got home that evening she made sure to touch up her make-up and hair and to change out of what she'd worn that day to work.
At seven o'clock there was a knock on her door. She opened it and found Eric holding two grocery bags.
"I changed my mind," he said, "how do you feel about homemade spaghetti?"
"You're going to cook me dinner?" she asked, grinning.
"If you'll let me," he said as he followed her inside.
"Of course I'll let you." They entered the kitchen. "Oh I feel so spoiled!"
He laughed at her and set about emptying the grocery bags of the noodles, a package of Italian bread, the odds and ends needed to make the sauce and finally,
"Ta-da!" he said. He pulled out a bottle of wine.
"Oh, Eric, I don't—" She stopped as he showed her the label. It wasn't wine at all, it was sparkling grape juice. He remembered that she didn't drink. "Thank you," she murmured.
No problem," he said, "Now, do you happen to have an apron?"
She started to laugh but then she realized he was serious.
"Let me check the closet," she said and disappeared down the hallway. The only apron she could find was one she had made in her junior high home ec class. It was frilly and hot pink. He blinked when he saw it but put it on anyways.
"Mind if I take some pictures?" she asked.
"Oh sure, emasculate me and then take pictures."
"Hey, you're the one who asked for the apron."
"Yeah but, hot pink?"
She sniffed airily. "I'll have you know that hot pink was very in when I made that."
"So were black trans ams but you don't see me driving one."
"No, you just have that camaro tricked out so much I could hear you coming a block away."
He put a hand over his heart.
"You wound me! You should have been able to hear me from at least two blocks!"
She rolled her eyes and tried not to laugh.
"Hey, a guy's got to have a hobby," he said defensively.
"I thought that was swimming?"
"Ok, fine, a guy has to have his toys."
"Boys and their toys."
"Like you can talk, you're the one who drives around in that monster SUV."
"At least it's not a Hummer."
Their eyes met and they couldn't help but crack up.
"Did you ever find out what Horatio wanted?" she asked him.
"Yeah, he caught me on the way to DNA to ask me how I think Ryan's progress has been."
"Review time for the newbie. Fun."
He laughed and turned to her can opener. She came around the counter.
"What can I do?" she asked, but he shooed her away.
"Just sit down and direct me to your pots and pans. I'll deal with everything else."
So she did, perching herself on the opposite side of the counter and watching him as he moved deftly around her tiny kitchen. Even with the pink apron he was very attractive, wearing khaki pants with a maroon shirt that helped to outline the muscles of his arms and chest. She found herself sighing slightly as he bent to place the bread in the oven. Finally the timer dinged and he served up two plates.
"Eric, this is delicious," she said after taking a bite. "Where did you learn to make it?"
"I had a roommate in college who was Italian. He showed me that the trick to a perfect sauce is to mix tomato paste with tomato sauce to make it thicker, add a bit of sugar to cut the acidity and don't be stingy with the spices."
"I'm impressed. It's been my experience that single men only know how to do two things. Microwave or order in."
"See, I like to eat so I had to learn to cook when I moved out."
"Well, I'd say you learned well Grasshopper."
He took her praise gracefully, smiling his little boy smile. She loved the way the smile sat on his face, the way his lower lip tended to stick out, and especially how it was directed totally to her.
When they finished Eric began to clear the table.
"Eric, leave those, I can get them later."
"No, I started the mess, I'll clean it up."
Both could tell the other was going to be stubborn so they compromised. They did the dishes together.
Calleigh was turned away from him to close the dishwasher when she felt the flick of a towel on the back of her knee. Before he could even blink she turned and snatched the towel from him, flicking back. He grabbed at it and caught it midair, which started a tug of war. He let her pull at it until he was separated from her by a mere fraction of an inch. However, she had also managed to back herself against the sink. He moved forward slightly and pinned her.
Being a head taller than she was, she had to crane her neck to look up at him. Despite their position she grinned cheekily and said, "I win."
"You want to rethink that?" he asked, smiling down at her. He then put a hand on either side of her, making escape impossible.
She swallowed as the game they were playing turned heavy. Suddenly it was as though her brain couldn't focus on anything but the hips pressed against her belly and the hands that grazed her ribs. She vaguely wondered if he knew that he was the strength holding her up since her legs had completely given out on her.
She knew what she was feeling and she knew he was feeling it too. It was there, written plain as day on his face and so it must be on hers as well. She drew in a shaky breath to try and calm herself but he was going to have none of that, oh no, because he lowered his head to follow that breath and any calm that she may have been able to cling to disappeared.
His lips moved on hers, not demanding, but rather persuading her to give in to him, which she did. She suddenly had the absurd notion that her whole life had been leading up to this one moment and that there would be a new meaning to things when it ended. A giddy energy rose from the pit of her being, prompting her to move her hands along his sides and then wrap around his back. His own hands came up to cup her flushed cheeks and then ran through her hair, pulling out the clip she had used to hold it back. It fell to the floor, forgotten.
How long they remained locked like that, neither knew. Eventually he pulled away, his breathing heavy, and stepped back. They looked at each other, eyes wide, wondering who would be the first to deny or justify what had just happened.
"Calleigh, I'm sorry," he started, his voice hoarse, but she shushed him.
"No, it's ok," she said, her own voice barely above a whisper.
"I think I should be going."
She agreed. If he didn't leave, something was going to happen that she wasn't sure she was ready for.
"I'll walk you to the door then," she said, walking ahead of him to put more distance between them.
After he left, Calleigh went back to the kitchen. She saw the hair clip on the floor and picked it up, worrying it in her fingers as she replayed the scene over and over in her mind. It looked like it was going to be another sleepless night for her.
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A/N: I understand that Eric and Calleigh's cars have been shown before and that what I have in the above story may not coincide with what was shown. If that is the case then they bought new ones, ok? Or rather, Eric has two, the camaro is, as he stated, his toy.