Title: Apalachicola
Author: Miranda
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: E/C
Spoilers: None.
Author's notes: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Hope you enjoy this one, too.

A p a l a c h i c o l a
By Miranda
Chapter Two

The next day, Calleigh woke up groggy and still tired, feeling the comforter wrapped way too tight around her body, barely allowing her to move. Only it took her a moment to realize it wasn't the comforter at all, it was Eric. His chest was pressed to her back, his right arm was tight around her waist, and his nose nestled on her neck, like it somehow belonged there. Her first instinct was to panic... waking up to Eric's leg settled between her legs wasn't exactly her idea of a relaxing, care free morning. Her second reaction was to kick him or punch him, but then, he probably didn't even know what he was doing. Or at least she hoped so. Her third reaction was to reach for her gun, but no. Too messy. She hated the sight of blood first thing in the morning.

So she just lay there, trying to ignore the fact that every time he breathed on her neck, her blood seemed to turn into icicles. Trying to ignore the fact that her arm rested on top of his; that their fingers were tangled up together and somehow they had slept like that. Best way to avoid dangerous thoughts is to not think them at all.

"Eric," she whispered, elbowing him softly but it only made him tighten his grip on her.

"Eric!"

He mumbled something in his sleep she couldn't quite understand, but nothing else happened.

"You're crushing me," Calleigh said, trying to push him away but he was way too heavy.

Eric finally opened his eyes and moved away from her when he realized what he was doing. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Calleigh said, sitting up, feeling the need to cover herself with the sheets, despite the fact that she was fully clothed.

"Sorry," he repeated, brushing his hand through his head, voice ragged with sleep. "What time is it?"

She reached for her watch on the night table and glanced at it. "Seven. Come on, we have an hour."

"Yeah, you go ahead," Eric said and lay down again, hugging her pillow.

"Come on, Eric," Calleigh exclaimed, looking for her things. "We're gonna be late again."

"Yeah, I'll be right there," he mumbled.

Calleigh sighed. This was probably what it felt like to have children. "When I get out of the bathroom I'm leaving, with or without you."

"Okay," Eric said again but didn't move a muscle.

Calleigh shook her head as she walked into the bathroom, and spent the next twenty minutes dressing up, trying to brush her teeth and her hair at the same time, applying all her make up in record time because if they didn't get there early, she was sure Horatio was gonna fire them over the phone. And if she lost her job now, she was gonna shoot Eric. But much to her surprise, when she came out she found Eric sitting on the bed, fully clothed and putting on his shoes. She was even more shocked when she noticed he had made the bed.

"Wow."

He looked at her and gave her a charming smile. "Is it that hard to believe?"

"Well, yeah," Calleigh said.

"I do live alone, Calleigh," he said, standing up and walking towards the bathroom. "I have to clean every once in a while."

"I thought single guys just waited till their apartment was completely uninhabitable and then moved into a new place, like crabs."

Eric chuckled. "Not this one," he said and winked at her before closing the door.

Calleigh smiled, sat on the bed, but didn't wanna mess it up, so she stood up again. She walked around the room as she waited, then reached into her briefcase to get the case file, going through the information again until Eric finished. Just in case they had missed something. The victim was Wayland Brooks, 47, born and raised in Miami, Fl. He was reported missing six days ago and finally found dead just two days before, near the Apalachicola river dam. He owned one of the most successful sea food restaurants in Miami, which translated into way too many suspects with too many motives. With the crime scene so far away, Horatio had decided to send them to retrieve whatever evidence they could find. Calleigh only hoped the crime scene hadn't been contaminated with the removal of the body or destroyed by the natural elements. That, for some reason, seemed unlikely.

The door to the bathroom suddenly opened and a draft of steam flowed out, but nothing else happened. Calleigh waited a couple of seconds, but the only thing she could hear was the water running. So against her better judgment, she walked over.

"Eric?" she called out, but only heard him mumble something at her she couldn't understand. When she leaned onto the doorframe, she figured out why he couldn't talk. He stood in front of the mirror, the lower part of his face covered in shaving cream, his hand carefully gliding a razor over it. He looked determined, hard on his task, a towel covering his clothes so he wouldn't get them wet. Calleigh couldn't help but smile. She had never really seen Eric in such a... domestic way. It was nice.

Eric finally sensed her there, looked at her through the mirror and smirked. "What?"

Calleigh shook her head, smile still plastered on her face.

"Supervising?" he teased.

She chuckled. "You shave."

"I have to, it grows back," Eric said.

"I know. I just never pictured you shaving," Calleigh said, shaking her head. "You just... you look like a man."

Eric stopped and frowned. "I'm scared to ask what I looked like before."

She chuckled, looking at the floor and trying to figure out just exactly what about seeing Eric shave was making her flush so much. It was really unnerving. Confusing, and dizzying and for some reason her heart was beating somewhat irregularly. When she looked up she found him staring at her through the mirror, famous Delko boyish smile on his face but he looked away and continued to shave casually, like having her there was the most natural thing in the world. When he finished, he splashed some water on his face; then randomly dried it off with the towel.

And Calleigh would spend the rest of the day wondering what on earth possessed her to do what she did next. She picked up a hand towel from the rack and walked over, stood in front of him and with one hand on his right cheek, she wiped the left side of his face, just under his sideburn. A little too slowly and when the shaving cream was all gone her hand lingered there. And the whole time she felt like she was watching herself from afar, like something had taken a hold of her, like someone else was doing this with her body, against her will. Suddenly found herself hypnotized by his brown eyes and couldn't look anywhere but at the questioning look on his face.

"Missed a spot," she said, and in her head her own voice sounded a little weird, deeper maybe; raspy.

Eric held her gaze, with a mixture of confusion and pleasantness but mostly confusion. She was standing a little too close and he had to wonder if this was the Calleigh Duquesne he had always known or an impostor. Because the Calleigh Duquesne he knew would never invade someone's personal space like she was doing now. The Calleigh Duquesne he knew never spoke in that tone unless it was to get something she wanted. And he had no idea what she could possibly want out of this situation. Hell, not that it wasn't nice. Very nice, in fact. But a bit uncharacteristic and he had to ask himself if that was a good thing or not. The Calleigh Duquesne he knew just didn't touch people unless it was absolutely necessary.

Calleigh suddenly realized what she was doing and removed her hands from his face. Looked down at the floor again and Eric could tell she was embarrassed, so he tried to make light of the situation. "Does this mean I get to watch you shave your legs later?"

Not exactly poetry, but it worked. Calleigh chuckled distractedly and threw the hand towel in the sink, eyes still glued to the floor. "We have to go," she said, barely audible, and walked out of the bathroom without looking at him once.

Eric shook his head and sighed. There, that was another one of those little things and unless he was dreaming all of this, he was pretty sure he wasn't making things up. And maybe it would be better if it was a dream because it was driving him insane, the way she would take one step forward and then take three steps back. He couldn't understand her, couldn't understand why she had to hold herself back like that. Was she scared of him? Did she think he was gonna hurt her? After years of friendship, he hoped she knew that he would absolutely die before that happened. In a heartbeat.

Well, that's if they got there at all, because considering their situation, Eric got the feeling the uncertainty would kill him before anything happened.

He splashed some aftershave on his face, for once not even feeling it sting, and when he walked out she handed him his kit, already acting like absolutely nothing had happened. He had to hand it to her. The woman sure knew how to work that denial.

As soon as they walked out of the room, their stomachs grumbled at the smell of breakfast somewhere in the house and they remembered they weren't actually alone there. Calleigh made her way down the stairs, Eric in tow, wondering if they had coffee around. Good coffee. She didn't have much time to think about it, though. As soon as she reached the last step, a heavy woman jumped in front of her and enveloped her in a tight hug.

"I am just so happy that you're here!" the woman laughed, releasing her only to hug Eric, who gave Calleigh a questioning look over the woman's shoulder.

She finally pulled away and held both Calleigh and Eric's hands. "I'm Linda Fulke. You probably met my son last night, Brian," Linda said, nodding at Brian, who sat behind the front desk, half asleep.

"Oh," Calleigh said, happy to have realized this woman owned the bed and breakfast and wasn't just some crazy person who had wandered in from the street. "We did. Hi, Brian."

"Hi," Brian sulked.

"He was very helpful last night," Eric said. "Very professional."

"Oh, good," Linda exclaimed. "I was so worried about leaving. You know teenagers."

"Yeah," Calleigh said, glancing at her watch discreetly. If they didn't leave right now, they'd be late again. But judging by Linda's grip on their hands, she wasn't planning on letting them leave any time soon.

"So how did you like your room?" she asked.

"It was nice," Calleigh said, looking at Eric.

"Very nice," Eric agreed.

Linda seemed beyond ecstatic to hear them say that. She squeezed their hands and sighed in delight. "You know, it is just so nice when we get young married couples to stay with us."

That immediately caught Calleigh's attention. She looked at Linda with a fake smile, trying to hide her confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"Well, you know," Linda continued, and whispered, "We mostly just get older couples." She watched as Calleigh gave Eric a confusing look and asked, "How long have you been married?"

"Oh," Calleigh said and chuckled nervously. "No, we're not, um—" she stopped there when Brian started waving at her from the desk, trying to tell her something but she had no idea what it was. Luckily, Eric caught the message.

"Two years," he said, and Calleigh immediately gave him a glare that could've killed him right there, but he ignored it.

"Oh, the honeymoon years," Linda sang.

"Yeah," Calleigh gritted through her teeth.

Linda noticed Calleigh's discomfort and whispered at her, "Not your first marriage?"

Eric had to try his hardest not to chuckle. He couldn't help it. It was hilarious, the sight of Calleigh all red, looking like she was about to explode... he couldn't wait to go back to Miami and tell everyone. She was gonna hate him forever. So naturally, the next logical step was to make things worse. He walked over and stood next to her, put his arm around her waist but he didn't feel a shiver this time. Just an immense heat that indicated just how angry she was. Oh yeah. She was gonna kill him.

"She's been married a couple of times, right baby?" Eric said, patting her hip. "They still haven't been able to find the bodies."

Linda laughed loudly at the joke, snorting at the end and slapping him in the arm. Eric smiled down at Calleigh and she smiled at him but he could tell exactly what she was thinking; it wasn't very nice.

"Well, come on!" Linda exclaimed. "We'll have breakfast and then later on we're playing Bingo."

"Aw, we'd love to," Calleigh said, trying to sound honest and normal but she found it a little too hard, her mind completely distracted by the way Eric's thumb kept gently rubbing her waist. "But we're not here on vacation."

"Oh?" Linda exclaimed.

"We're with the Miami Dade police department," Eric added.

Linda's face suddenly fell and she turned around quickly before shrieking, "Brian!"

"What?" Brian asked, suddenly wide awake.

"What did you do this time," Linda grunted.

"It's okay," Calleigh said, taking the opportunity to disentangle herself from Eric. "He hasn't done anything wrong."

Linda suddenly breathed a sigh of relief, putting her hand over her chest. "Oh, thank God," she said and then her eyes widened. "Oh, that body by the dam!"

Eric and Calleigh looked at each other, wondering if they could talk to anybody about the case, especially considering they didn't know much about it themselves. Not that they could if they knew, considering Linda kept talking without taking a single breath.

"What a horrible thing. I can't eat, I can't sleep. Do you think the town is safe? Should we stop taking reservations until the murderer is found? Do you know who it is?"

"That's what we're here to find out," Eric said.

"Good, good," Linda said, then suddenly her mood changed and she smiled brightly. "Breakfast, then?"

Eric's stomach grumbled. Finally. Food. But Calleigh's hand on his arm stopped him from following Linda.

"We have to go, actually," Calleigh said.

"Without eating breakfast?" Linda asked.

"We're late enough as it is," she explained.

"Alright," Linda smiled. "Well, you come back before you leave and say goodbye, you hear me?"

"We will," Calleigh smiled; happy this conversation was finally coming to an end, unhappy about the conversation that would follow between her and Eric.

"Nice to meet you," Eric said as he followed Calleigh out.

Linda waved as they left, bright smile pasted on her face. When they were gone, she turned to Brian and shook her head. "I give them two months."

Brian just rolled his eyes and rested his head on the desk, trying to catch up on sleep.

"Why did you do that?" Calleigh whispered once they were outside.

"What?" Eric asked.

"You know what."

"I don't know," Eric said, opening the trunk to put everything back inside. "Didn't wanna get Brian in trouble."

"They still haven't been able to find the bodies?" Calleigh asked.

"You did threaten to shoot me last night, it's not entirely impossible that you haven't shot a couple of husbands before," he said.

"That wasn't funny, Eric," she said once they were inside the car.

"Why?" Eric asked.

She didn't say anything, just sighed and stared out the window as they drove towards the station. Even if she could find the right words she was sure they were just gonna make her sound crazy. Because if this was Ryan or Tyler she would be completely fine with it. In fact, it was kinda funny. But with Eric... she had never felt this much anger before. It bothered her. She didn't know why and maybe that was it. Because God, they were best friends. And how many times had she pretended to be his girlfriend before? When there was a girl hovering over him he didn't like, when she was trying to get rid of an insistent guy, or just to joke around when they were bored. She could remember a time when that was part of their relationship, all the flirting. It used to be innocent and fun. But it was different now and not knowing why just made her want to cry and shoot someone at the same time. Preferably him.

Eric tried to make chit chat, tried to steal a couple of glances but suddenly gave up trying to reason with her or understand her. He could remember a time when all he had to do was look at her and he was able to tell what she was up to. Hell, most of the time he didn't even have to look at her, just hear her voice and he'd know what she was thinking, doing, or would do. She prided herself on being secretive, an enigma, but Eric knew better. She could fool all those guys, she could fool their coworkers and friends, but she had never been able to fool him.

Well, until now. Because he had no idea what was going on in that head of hers. Not a clue. And he had tried, boy had he tried. Short of picking her up in the air and shaking the truth out of her, he had no idea what to do anymore. Because this morning, he could have sworn something was happening between them. This morning she had been laughing and joking around and now she wasn't even talking to him. Great. Just great. How on earth was he going to be able to do something about it if he couldn't even guess how she would react?

There was only one way to know; he would have to ask her. And he would have to do that soon, because he couldn't go on like this any longer, high one minute and then completely deflated the next. It was just too much and he needed to get things clear. He knew it was bothering her, too. Calleigh wasn't usually so unpredictable. She was always smooth, collected, completely calmed. These mood swings weren't characteristic of her and maybe they had nothing to do with him, fine. If she didn't want him, he would just have to find a way to deal with it. But something was wrong and the fact that she wasn't sharing it with him bothered Eric. Scared him, too. Not that Calleigh couldn't take care of herself; she certainly could. He still worried, though.

But if it had something to do with him, and he was grasping at straws again, he wanted to know. Needed to know. Calleigh wasn't very responsive to words, and just plain asking her would probably be the wrong way to go about it, but he began to think of the best time to confront her anyway. Right now? No. She was pissed. Calleigh wasn't very cooperative when she got pissed. After they collected the evidence? Probably not. They had a nine hour trip ahead of them and getting Calleigh angry right before locking her up in a car for nine hours straight was just suicide. Not to mention all the stops, the desolated roads, all those ditches where she could easily dispose of his body... he would have to wait until they got back to Miami. And then wait for her to get a good night sleep. And a big breakfast. A hungry Calleigh wasn't a nice Calleigh, he knew that from experience. And maybe he should take her somewhere nice, of course. He wasn't just gonna blurt it out in the middle of the lab. So wait for a whole day of work and then dinner reservations. Some place nice but not very romantic. Perfect.

His mind began to calculate the plan. With the evidence, the trip, the sleep, the food, the work, and the dinner... in around two days he would have his answer. Two days? His mind scratched that immediately. Too long. No way did he have the patience to wait two days. Hell, just two minutes seemed too long a wait.

On to plan B. Plan B would definitely work. Except technically there was no plan B. Not yet. But as soon as he figured out what plan B was, he knew it would be genius. Plan A was a fluke. Plan B always works.

They arrived at the station a couple of minutes before 8, and Calleigh jumped out of the car before Eric even turned off the engine. He watched her and shook his head; at least he didn't have to deal with the silence anymore. He locked the door behind him and followed her into the small station. This was gonna be a bad day.

His mind immediately marveled at the size of this place. Well, compared to their police station this was barely the size of a house and he couldn't believe these people got things done here but a part of him loved it. He wished Miami didn't need big police stations and almost city like jails. He wished this tiny little station was all they needed to get their job done. If only wishing made it so... well, he and Calleigh would still be in bed. Preferably together. Preferably naked.

Inside, a couple of desks decorated the small front room, but not much was happening. Or more like nothing at all. The room was empty, but Calleigh was sure she could hear someone on the back, grunting or talking. She looked at Eric, who just shrugged his shoulders at her, and she headed towards the noise.

A blonde haired young man stood in front of a mirror, taking out his gun from the holster over and over again and pointing it as his reflection, threatening it, letting it know he was the best damn sheriff in the whole damn country. Eric chuckled and Calleigh couldn't help but smile. A rookie, no doubt. She could still remember staring at herself in the mirror for what seemed like hours, loving the way she looked while holding a gun.

She finally cleared her throat and the man jumped, dropping his gun in the process. Eric quickly moved towards Calleigh, put his arm in front of her to get her out of the way, but the gun fell to the floor without much fuss.

"It's not loaded," the man said, picking it up and opening the chamber to show them. "See?"

Eric breathed a sigh of relief, but his arm stayed protectively in place. Calleigh quickly removed it, but he didn't fail to notice her touch was soft now, kind of appreciative in a way, letting him know she wasn't that pissed anymore, was actually kind of grateful. She would never tell him that, of course. She would probably rather die than say it out loud. But she didn't always have to say these things out loud for him to know.

"You the folks from Miami?"

"Calleigh Duquesne, Eric Delko," Calleigh said, shaking the man's hand.

"Corbin Frankel."

"Are you the sheriff?" Eric asked.

"Sheriff? He's barely an assistant," an older man suddenly said, walking up behind Corbin.

"I prefer the term deputy sheriff," Corbin said indignantly, winking at Calleigh.

"And I prefer the term 'finished paperwork', Corbin. But I'm looking at that paperwork on your desk now and guess what? It ain't finished," the sheriff barked.

"Sorry, Uncle Charlie," Corbin said and sat behind a nearby desk.

The sheriff shook his head and looked at Eric and Calleigh. "You the folks from Miami?"

"Eric Delko and Calleigh Duquesne," Eric said.

"Sheriff Frankel."

"Nice to meet you," Calleigh said.

"D-u-q-u-e-s-n-e," Corbin suddenly said from his desk, smiling at Calleigh and then looking at his uncle eagerly.

"That's right!" Calleigh chuckled; Eric merely rolled his eyes next to her.

"Well, what do you want, a gold star? Paperwork, Corbin," the sheriff said.

"Yes, sir."

The sheriff turned to Eric and Calleigh again. "Alright, let's get this over with," he said and began walking towards his office. "You want some coffee?"

"That'd be great," Eric said, feeling like he was in heaven just from hearing the word.

"Coffee, Corbin!" the sheriff shouted as he walked into his office. He sat behind a desk, inviting Eric and Calleigh to sit across from him. With a grunt, he opened up a drawer, took out a thin file, and put it on the desk.

Calleigh grabbed it and opened it up. In it, there was only one piece paper. "This is your report?"

The sheriff nodded.

Eric took a peek. The whole thing was merely a paragraph long.

"Too long?" the sheriff asked with a twinge of humor.

Calleigh chuckled distractedly. "No, sir. We were just hoping for more detail."

"Like where exactly you found the body, how you removed it, what kind of evidence you found on the scene," Eric explained.

"Just for the record," Calleigh said, not wanting to sound patronizing or pushy.

The sheriff nodded. "Miss Duquesne, do you know how many murders we had in 2000?"

"Oh, how many?"

"Zero," the sheriff said, serious look on his face. "Do you know how many murders we had in 2001?"

Calleigh looked at Eric, who raised his eyebrows at her amusedly. She turned to the sheriff again. "Um—"

"Zero," he interrupted. "Do you know how many murders we had in 2002?"

"Look, I see where you're going with this," Eric said. "We understand your frustration, but we're here to help out, solve this case as soon as possible so your community can feel safe again."

"Our community feels safe enough as it is," the sheriff said. "These damn people come from all over the country, during oyster season especially, get themselves into trouble and then we have to clean up the mess. It's not like we've never seen a dead body before."

"I understand," Eric said.

"But, it's not my case, right?" the sheriff sighed.

"We're not here to impose," Calleigh said. "In fact, we would love to have your cooperation on this."

"Well, you got it," the sheriff said, leaning back on his chair. "But I don't know how much you're gonna find up there."

"We really appreciate it," Eric smiled.

At that moment, Corbin showed up with two cups of coffee, handing one to Eric and one to Calleigh. Eric fell in love with the smell immediately and took a sip. Not one of his blends, but it would do. At least it was warm.

"I got you some sugar packets," Corbin told Calleigh.

"Thank you," she said appreciatively.

"I didn't know how much sugar to put in, so," Corbin said.

Eric scratched his forehead and shook his head. The sheriff watched the scene with an amused look on his face, and Eric tried to take it lightly, but he couldn't help it. Something inside of him burned every time Corbin eagerly shook his tail in front of Calleigh like a damn puppy. And her smile, he did not like that smile. An unreasonable part of him wanted her to smile like that for him and him only. But then he realized what an idiot he was being. It's not like she was gonna take the guy home with her. He tried to remind himself that Calleigh was naturally flirty, that it had nothing to do with Corbin, and it had definitely nothing to do with him. It probably didn't mean anything.

He tried to convince himself of that over and over again. Didn't seem to be working, though.

Sheriff Frankel shook his head. "Put your boots on, Corbin. Looks like we're going to the dam."

Corbin suddenly looked happy and eager. "Yes, sir!" he exclaimed and walked out.

The sheriff muttered something about the damn unfinished paperwork before picking up the phone. Calleigh smiled and took a sip of her coffee, looked at Eric but he didn't seem to be in a good mood anymore. She shrugged it off.

The sheriff hung up the phone and put his hat on. "When you're ready."

--

The ride up to the dam was as quiet as the ride to the station. Eric seemed distracted, his mind worlds away but Calleigh couldn't figure out why. She could've asked him, but if it had anything to do with what happened that morning, well, she just didn't want to have that conversation. Just thinking about it made her feel a little queasy. Her friendship with Eric had never been complicated, until now. And it made her sad to think that she might lose him. She was beginning to think this trip was a bad idea.

Calleigh was on her fifth time reading the sheriff's report when suddenly they arrived. A couple of police cars already waited for them, along with three uniformed men standing next to the sheriff and Corbin. Eric opened up the trunk to hand Calleigh her kit.

"This is it," the sheriff said.

Eric walked up to the edge of the river. "Right here?"

"Yup."

Calleigh approached, too. The area was completely flooded, and tiny waves of water occasionally beat on the shore. Eric began taking pictures as she took in the scene. Definitely a remote area, but as far as finding evidence, she wasn't very hopeful anymore. In fact, if it hadn't been for the pictures the sheriff had sent them, she wouldn't even be able to recognize that as the crime scene.

"Anything we can do?" Corbin asked.

"Yeah," Calleigh said, putting on her gloves. "Let me know of anything that looks out of the ordinary."

"Like what?" the sheriff asked incredulously.

"You tell me," Calleigh smiled.

"This area isn't closed to the public, Miss Duquesne," the sheriff said. "It's been two days. You know, kids, the whole town has probably been here by now. How do we know what's garbage and what's important?"

"Wayland Brooks was strangled with a foreign object," Eric said. "So ropes, cables, any kind of fabric... if it looks important then it is important."

Corbin eagerly began to comb the area as if he was looking for gold; his uncle only looked reluctantly. Calleigh picked up some insignificant things, but she was beginning to think like the sheriff. It would be a miracle if they found something of importance. After half an hour, her back was beginning to hurt, and their evidence bag was still nearly empty.

"Told you there wasn't much up here," the sheriff said.

Calleigh ignored him and continued to look anyway. She memorized the position of every cop, what they were doing, and continued to search near the area. And then, not too far from the body, where the soil was dry, she thought she could recognize a shoeprint.

"Sheriff, do you remember seeing this when you found the body?"

The sheriff came over and analyzed the print closely. "Like I said, this area isn't closed to the public."

Calleigh marked it anyway and Eric quickly came over to take some pictures.

"I've got another one over here!" Corbin said.

Calleigh marked that one, too, and noticed even more prints, all of them leading into a wooded area. She began to follow them, marking as she went along, Eric taking pictures behind her. But after they reached the first row of trees, they disappeared.

"Alright, boys," the sheriff said. "Peter, Duncan, and Chris, go on that way," he directed. "Corbin, you're with me."

Calleigh watched as they went on different directions, all inspecting the ground and she was glad they at least weren't giving them any resistance. A twig snapped behind her and she turned around to see Eric walk away; she followed him.

Through all the fallen leaves, branches, and debris, it would be hard to find these prints again, but she looked closely anyway.

"Weird bunch," Eric suddenly whispered next to her, looking at the ground, camera in hand.

"At least they're being helpful," Calleigh commented. He sighed next to her, and she noticed his forehead wrinkled. A sure Eric telltale. "Something bothering you?"

"Me? No," Eric replied. After a brief silence, he added off-handedly, "That Corbin guy."

Calleigh frowned. "You don't think he's nice?"

Eric shook his head. "I guess. In a... mentally challenged kinda way."

"He's not mentally challenged."

"So he can spell, big deal—"

"Eric."

"And what the hell kind of name is Corbin, anyway?"

"Stop," she said sharply. "What is the matter with you?"

He looked at her, looked around for a second and then sighed. "Sorry." He kicked a couple of leaves out of the way and added, "I'm just hungry as hell."

"We'll get some breakfast when we're through here. Relax," Calleigh said.

Eric watched her as she knelt down and brushed some leaves out of the way, but found nothing there and just kept looking. That was Calleigh. She wouldn't stop until she hit a wall. And even then, she would just climb over it and keep going. It was one of the things he most liked about her.

And that made him feel like an idiot. Whatever he was feeling with regards to Corbin, the sheriff, the case, or breakfast, he didn't have to take it out on her. Not that she was an angel, either, but he certainly didn't want to make things worse.

So he took a deep breath and walked over, making enough noise to let her know he was getting near. "Look, I'm sorry about this morning, at the bed and breakfast. I didn't know it was gonna bother you that much."

Calleigh looked at him as she tried to figure out what he meant, then realized out he was talking about the whole marriage ordeal; she shook her head and waved her hand in the air. "It's okay," she said dismissively and continued to inspect the ground.

"I just thought it would be funny, that's all," Eric said.

"Really, Eric," Calleigh added.

"You say really, but I know you don't really mean really."

"I really mean really."

"Really?"

She chuckled softly, feeling an immense weight being lifted off her shoulders, glad they were both in a good mood. At the same time. That seemed to be a rarity as of lately. "Well, I'm sorry too. I just get crabby when I haven't had my coffee."

Eric nodded, and he wanted to call her in on her lie, but decided to let it slide. Calleigh never got crabby when she didn't drink coffee. Hell, most of the time Calleigh didn't even need coffee. She was naturally cheery and full of energy. So why she was lying to him now, Eric had no idea; he was beginning to get used to that feeling.

"Listen, Cal, about this morning—"

Her smile disappeared, recognizing immediately what he was referring to now. "I don't wanna talk about that," she said.

No shock. He was definitely expecting that. "I really think we should," Eric said.

"Eric," Calleigh sighed, suddenly not knowing what to do with herself; she began to walk away. "Just forget about it, okay?" she said over her shoulder.

Eric frowned as he watched her. That couldn't be it. That definitely wasn't it. He hadn't spent the last couple of months going on trips to hell and back just to forget about it. So he walked over, followed her, but she seemed to be ignoring him now. Didn't matter to him. She was gonna listen whether she wanted or not.

"It's not gonna go away, Cal. Ignoring it won't make it go away."

That got her attention. She turned around and faced him, her expression letting Eric know she was completely unguarded now, speechless. But she wasn't looking straight at him and for a moment he felt bad for her, but he couldn't go on like this anymore. He couldn't pull back now.

"Do you know how crazy this is making me? Do you even know?" he asked in a last moment of desperation, his voice reaching a pitiful pitch, and for a moment he thought she was going to cry, but her head was hanging so low he could barely see her face among the blonde hair that suddenly seemed to have enveloped her whole.

His heart caught in his throat when her hand came up to pin her hair behind her ear, but she still wouldn't look at him.

"Eric, I don't—" she stopped there, struggling, stumbling on the words.

Eric took a step forward. "Don't what, Calleigh?"

She looked at him, finally, and he saw that her eyes were bright with tears he knew she was fighting, with all her will, not to shed. Just for once, he wished she'd let them. Just for once he wished she would let her emotions flow freely, whether they benefited him or not. Just once.

Calleigh looked at the ground again, and Eric figured the silence was better than a flat out rejection, at least she was thinking about it. But then, the rustling of leaves suddenly caught her attention and made her look the other way.

Eric cursed under his breath when he saw Corbin running over, out of breath, urgent look on his face. He was gonna kill that guy!

"There's something here you oughta see," Corbin gasped, running back the way he came from.

Calleigh looked at Eric for a brief second, all the emotion suddenly gone, before they both ran over, trying to keep up with Corbin. Finally, they could spot the sheriff not too far away, he and the other cops looking up at something. As soon as they reached him, Calleigh's breath caught in her throat. Up there, hanging from a tree, was another body, completely pale, naked, already beginning to decompose.

"Does that look out of the ordinary to you?" the sheriff asked.

Eric looked away and grimaced.

"Looks like y'all are gonna be staying here a while longer," Corbin commented.

To be continued...

Who killed Wayland Brooks? Will Eric finally tell Calleigh how he feels? Was the coffee really that bad? Is Miranda going to get fired for writing fanfic on the job? Stay tuned and find out.