Title: Apalachicola
Author: Miranda
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: E/C
Spoilers: None

A p a l a c h i c o l a
by Miranda
Chapter Five

Calleigh woke up to a feeling that was starting to become routine. A little too much, she thought, and that couldn't be a good thing. She was aware of the sun shining through the curtains, the smell of freshly cooked breakfast coming from the kitchen bellow, and even more aware of that sneaky arm around her that wouldn't let her move again.

She frowned, eyes still closed, and complained in her sleep. "Eric."

"Hey, don't look at me this time," a deep voice came from above.

Calleigh's eyes opened immediately and quickly took in her surroundings. Something was much different this morning. Well, for one Eric wasn't behind her but under her. She wasn't crushed against the edge of the bed, but there was an almost infinite amount of space behind her. Didn't take her groggy mind long to realize she had somehow managed to cross on to his side of the bed in the middle of the night and now she lay half atop him, her head on his chest, her hand scandalously under his shirt.

Green eyes widened. She was lying on top of Eric. Her entire forearm was under his shirt and his skin was soft, warm. He was also more comfortable than any pillow she had managed to purchase in the last 10 years. Alarm bells instantly went off and she quickly moved away from him.

"Oh God, Eric, I'm so sorry," she said, taking in the amused expression on his face but failing to recognize what was so funny.

Eric chuckled and sat up, resting his back against the backboard. "It's okay. We're even now."

"I was going to sleep on the floor—" she continued, but stopped there, realizing that was the same thing he'd said to her just the day before. Embarrassed, she covered her face with her hands and smiled when she heard him chuckle. Flushed, she glanced around the room before she looked at him again. Her hand went to touch the bandage on his forehead but for some reason it stopped midway. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

He shook his head. "I'm okay."

Calleigh nodded, relieved. "How long have you been up?"

"I don't know. Half an hour?"

Calleigh's eyes widened again and she reached for her watch on the night stand to check the time. "Eric!" Letting out an exasperated sigh, she stood up and rushed around the bed to his side. "You were supposed to take these two hours ago!"

Eric only watched her, amused, as she took two little pills from their respective bottles and handed them to him along with a glass of tepid water.

"Are you in pain?" she asked, sitting down next to him, a little too energetic for a woman who hadn't had much sleep and no coffee.

Eric gulped the pills down and grimaced at the stale water. "A little."

Calleigh's expression had changed from one of anger to concern. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"You looked too comfortable there."

Her expression softened somewhat, caught off guard, but then she frowned slightly at him. "I could've crushed your hand."

"You didn't," he said, showing her his perfectly bandaged wrist.

"I could have."

"But you didn't."

Calleigh smiled, looking down and then at him again. "Are you okay?"

"Calleigh," Eric sighed. "It was just a concussion."

She frowned, running her hands through her hair as she stood up and began to look for fresh clothes. Just a concussion, sure. To him. To her it had been hell. It was still hell, seeing him there, every movement reminiscent to his body lying on the ground. Since she's known Eric nothing bad has ever really happened to him. Sure there had been that fire deal in the glades, but she'd never really had the time to react to it, because the first words out of Horatio's mouth were "everything's okay" and then he told her about the fire.

And now... it was the first time she'd realized how vulnerable their lives were, that they were not the superheroes people thought, that they were just as susceptible to harm as any other person, no matter how many guns or bullet vests or badges they carried. One fall and that was that. Years of training, physical and mental, gone in less than a second.

Maybe Linda had been right. Yes, she was still spooked, and overreacting, and having a hard time trying to convince herself to stop mothering Eric. But at this point the urge was almost physical. All the "what ifs" were still talking too loudly in her mind. What if she hadn't gotten to him in time? What if his head had landed on a rock? What if he hadn't lived?

And what would be of her if he hadn't?

Was perhaps the one question she hadn't found the answer to. She knew it was selfish to think like that, because it was Eric who had gotten hurt and it was Eric who needed the attention. Still, there was that one part of her that refused to see it like that. There was a part of her that tried to convince her she'd gotten hurt as much as he, that everything that happened to Eric happened to her as well. It came as no surprise to her, or anyone, that it was the part she ignored the most.

As she struggled with her inner thoughts, Eric watched her. There were bags under her eyes, her hair was a mess, and her clothes were wrinkled. She looked like she hadn't slept in days. He instantly felt a pang of guilt hit him, but also felt an inexplicable satisfaction within him. Maybe her current state meant she cared about him. Maybe the fact that she was having such a hard time meant she felt more for him than the insta-caring that came with friendship. Maybe falling off that fucking tree was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Calleigh turned around briefly, and when she caught him looking at her she did something completely uncharacteristic. Instead of pulling out her gun and ending his life right there, she just smiled, unnecessarily tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and looked down.

Eric frowned.

Had she blushed?

He tried to find her face under the mess of blonde hair that covered it, but Calleigh was an expert when it came to hiding her emotions. She put some of his things away and by the time she looked at him again, the 'business-like' Calleigh had returned. It all took place in less than two seconds and Eric had to admire the way she could jump from one emotion to the other in the blink of an eye. The woman really deserved an Oscar.

"Breakfast?" she asked, easing some of the tension away, or at least trying to. "Enjoy all this spoiling while you can."

Eric chuckled, and grunted as he struggled to swing his legs over the side of the bed. Calleigh immediately rushed over and grabbed his upper arm, helping him stand up.

"Stay here, I'll bring it up."

"Just have to go to the bathroom," Eric said.

He insisted he could walk on his own, and she merely watched as he wobbled his way towards the bathroom. Something inside of her was itching to go in there with him, just to make sure he was okay. What if he slipped and fell? But then her mind reminded her Eric was not a child, he was a strong man who could take care of himself. He didn't really need her and she was being paranoid again.

Besides, she reminded herself, he'd gone in there to use the bathroom. Things were awkward enough.

So she decided to look for some of her things instead, whatever it was she would wear that day, and the case's file. One glance at her cell phone and she could see she'd missed a call. She checked the number and sighed. Horatio.

She dialed and began to pace around the room as she waited, and tried not to go near the door to hear if Eric needed help in the bathroom. A few seconds went by and she never heard a crash, so she assumed he was doing okay. After three rings, Horatio picked up his phone.

"Calleigh. How's Eric?"

Her eyebrows furrowed for a second before she realized he must've seen her number on his telephone. Sometimes she had to spend hours trying to convince herself that Horatio didn't have super human powers.

"He's okay, a little woozy," she replied.

"He's gonna try to get some work done today, don't let him."

Calleigh smiled. "Don't worry; I'll tie him down if I have to."

"Good," Horatio said. "We're bringing Mrs. Brooks in for questioning again."

"You think she did it?" she said reluctantly.

"She knew about the affair."

"Yeah, but," Calleigh hesitated. She never liked contradicting Horatio. "She's known for a while and she never seemed to care. Why kill him now?

"Well, that's what we need to find out," Horatio replied matter-of-factly.

Calleigh smiled. "Okay, well, I'm going back to the sheriff's to check Eric's gun, and then back to the crime scene."

"Keep me posted."

"Ditto," Calleigh said, but he had already hung up.

She put her phone away, and Eric emerged from the bathroom simultaneously. She refrained herself from aiding him towards the bed, seeing as he seemed to have the art of walking all under control. He grunted as he sat on the bed, and as he stared reflectively at the floor she took the opportunity to sneak into the bathroom to shower and change.

When she walked out, Calleigh found him in the same position. She put her dirty clothes away and approached him cautiously.

"You okay?"

Eric seemed to snap out of a reverie and looked up at her. "Hmm?"

Calleigh smiled. "Do you want me to get you anything before I leave?" she asked. "Anything, just ask."

"Yeah," Eric said distractedly.

Calleigh's smile broadened. She decided it felt better when he asked for help than when she forced it on to him. "Shoot."

"What happened yesterday?"

Her smile vanished slowly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Eric breathed, shifting in place, his sprained hand resting on his thigh. "What happened? How did I end up at the hospital?"

Calleigh's eyebrows nearly touched her hairline, and she reminded herself too late that she couldn't overreact. Don't panic, and he won't panic either, a voice reminded her.

"You don't remember?"

"I remember you leaving with Brian. I remember he found something and he came to get you," Eric said, acted like he was going to continue for a second, but then just stopped there.

"That's it?" Calleigh asked.

"Yeah," Eric frowned. "I can't remember what happened after that. I've been trying to remember all morning, I can't. It's like somebody edited that part out."

Calleigh sat down next to him. She wondered if she could tell him everything that happened. Not that she knew much, anyway, but she didn't want him to spend the rest of his day worrying about his safety. Hell, she didn't want to spend the rest of her day worrying about his safety, either, and if not having an answer wasn't helping her deal with it, she was sure it wouldn't do him any good, either. But then she thought, briefly, that if she were in his situation she'd like to know. So risking his state of mind she looked down at the carpet and began.

"Well," she breathed in, trying to make sense of it in her head first before she blurted the words out. "Brian found some clothes down by the shore and I went to get them. While I was inspecting them, we heard a shot and when I made it back you were on the ground. Brian called 911 and... I guess the rest you already know."

Eric looked down, trying to picture what she was describing. Though her voice was soft, soothing, he found hearing what happened made him a little nauseous, especially the middle part.

"A shot?" he said, confused.

Calleigh nodded and then looked up at him. "You don't remember hearing anything or seeing anybody after I left?"

Eric shook his head. He tried to retrieve those memories from his mind, but there was nothing there. If anything, her story created more questions than provided answers. "A gunshot?"

Calleigh nodded. Her fingers began to play with each other nervously. Remembering what had happened the day before made her relive all those feelings again.

"Somebody tried to shoot me?"

Calleigh shook her head. "No," she said definitively but then hesitated, "I don't know. Maybe it was your own gun, maybe it went off when you fell. We don't know yet. I'm going down to the sheriff's station to check."

Eric remained quiet, going over all this information in his head. He was trying to remember, he really was, but everything was so hazy. He went over the information she gave him, trying to make it spark something in his brain, trigger at least the tiniest of memories, but nothing was happening. It was like his mind was completely blank, like none of this had actually happened to him but to somebody else and he was now hearing that story for the first time. It was frustrating, angering, but mostly a bit scary.

For the first time he began to doubt his decision to leave the hospital.

"And if it wasn't my gun?" he hesitantly asked.

Calleigh bit her lower lip reluctantly, looking at the carpet. "I don't know, Eric."

He didn't reply to that, and he didn't look at her, either, but from her tone of voice he could tell she was a little scared as well, or reluctant, hesitant, something. The silence was so deafening, the air so thick, that for a moment he wished they would forget this nonsense and go home. Nothing about this case made sense and knowing that they were in immediate danger - that she was in immediate danger - created an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm sorry, Eric."

He frowned when he heard her voice, but looked down at her and smiled. "What are you sorry for?"

She bit the inside of her cheek, looked down at the floor and hesitated, but the words spilled out anyway. "I shouldn't have left you there."

"Hey," Eric exclaimed, turning to her. "None of that, okay? I'm not gonna listen to it."

Calleigh sighed and ran her hands through her face, feeling stressed out and exhausted. She wanted to go home. She wanted to slip into bed and sleep for days, and mostly she wanted to let him know, somehow, how she was feeling. Words, unfortunately, had never been her forte. "I should've—"

"I said I'm not gonna listen to it, Calleigh," Eric interrupted her. A sudden urge of anger passed over him and he wished he could stand up and walk away. He hated when Calleigh got like this, when she took responsibility for things that were out of her control. He wished he could turn away and not witness it, because seeing her like this hurt like a thousand stab wounds, but his head hurt so much he feared that if he stood up he'd end up throwing up.

And he had never been able to get through to her when she got like this, either. But that never stopped him from trying. "Did you stop to consider that you saved my life?"

"How?" she said. Her eyebrows furrowed again disbelievingly. Eric gave her an 'obvious' look. She shook her head dismissively and looked at the bathroom door. "This shouldn't have happened."

"No, it shouldn't have," Eric said. "But it did and not because of you. It just happened. If someone fired their gun at me, it would've happened whether you were there or not."

She looked at him, long enough to see the sincerity in his eyes and looked away. He ran his good hand through her back, trying to soothe her, and she tried to hang on to his words, if only to convince him that she felt okay. She shouldn't have brought this up; she hated being vulnerable in front of Eric. But it was out in the open now and she might as well deal with it or run away from it. Considering this was Eric, whose level of dysfunction was nonexistent, she got the feeling he wouldn't let her run away from it.

Eric smiled as he watched her struggle with herself. "Don't you trust me?"

"Of course," Calleigh said without hesitation.

"Then trust me, Calleigh, this wasn't your fault."

She nodded. "I know."

Eric grinned at her. "Do you really know or are you just pretending to know?"

Calleigh chuckled softly and looked down at her hands. She didn't know why, but suddenly she felt embarrassed.

Eric watched her and pulled her closer. She stiffened a little but he ignored that and kissed the side of her head. "I'm just glad it was me and not you."

She pulled back and frowned at him. "How can you say that?"

Though Eric knew the answer instantly, he decided it would be better not to say it out loud. Instead, he gave her a slight shoulder shrug and looked towards the door. He could feel her staring at the side of his face, and when he looked at her again her expression had softened, all doubt gone.

He smiled faintly; she smiled back. Eric didn't fail to notice the way her eyes shined, and he got the feeling it was mostly due to unshed tears.

Something was wrong.

Calleigh never cried in front of people. Hell, he was pretty sure Calleigh didn't cry at all. To Calleigh, crying was something only pathetic and weak people did. He'd known her for years, and he'd seen her go through horrible hardships, but he'd never seen Calleigh cry. He'd never even seen her flinch.

And it's not like rivers of tears were streaming down her face now, there wasn't even enough of it to form one single tear, but it was still troubling.

And it should've given him an indication.

Because when Calleigh was acting weird, something even weirder usually followed. When she wasn't herself she would usually end up saying the wrong thing, usually insulting to him and he should've seen it coming. But he was too busy worrying over her state of mind to notice her body had begun to inch closer to his, that her hand was now resting on his thigh.

And by the time he realized what was happening it was too late, because she was too close, and without knowing he'd leaned in as well, his body acting on its own. He ran his fingers through her hairline, feeling that out-of-body sensation, wondering if there was life after this and if there was he couldn't possibly figure out how, especially when he finally felt her lips pressed up against his.

And though he reacted quickly he was still confused, because he'd come to the conclusion long ago that nothing between him and Calleigh would ever materialize. He'd convinced himself so well that seeing anything supernatural at that moment would've been less shocking.

He was still shocked when she leaned in further to grasp at him better, when his face turned, without him asking it to, so he could kiss her better, with more intensity. And still shocked when her hands caressed his chest, wanting to pull him closer but no matter what happened there was always that old Calleigh there, preventing her from enjoying what she'd always wanted.

Eric rested his bandaged wrist on the back of her neck, ignored the pain and pulled her towards him more and she actually let him. He wondered briefly if hallucinations were one of the side effects from the pills she had forced him to take, but her lips felt real, soft and moist and dangerous as her teeth momentarily scratched his lip. And it wasn't until some time had passed that he realized what was actually happening, that he was kissing Calleigh and she was kissing him back, that it was actually her who'd initiated the kiss and that it seemed to have no end in sight. He kissed her with more energy, feeling suddenly overwhelmed because there was a slight chance he could've died in the field yesterday and never had this moment. He would wonder later if that had been the reason why she kissed him, because she, too, realized how short life was and how many hours, days, years of their lives they'd wasted because they were both too scared to admit there was something between them.

He dipped her head back and she moaned lightly, her hand gliding up his chest and resting on his neck. And just when it seemed like things would spiral out of control, that they would reach the point of no return, a knock on the door startled her and she jumped back, slipping out of his arms.

By the time he opened his eyes she was already standing as far away from the bed as she could without actually crawling on top of the tiny table that stood near the wall. Eric sighed, annoyed, when Linda let herself into the room, carrying a tray with her.

"Anybody want breakfast?" she said, but then stopped when she found Eric sitting on the bed, Calleigh standing a few feet away from it. The tension was too intense to ignore. "I'm sorry, did I interrupt anything?"

"No," Calleigh said quickly and smiled. "I was just leaving."

Linda put the tray on the bedside table and watched as Calleigh searched for her briefcase and Eric watched her with a strange look on his face. Worry, maybe. Longing? She'd definitely interrupted something.

"I, uh," Calleigh said as she swung her briefcase's strap over her shoulder. "I'll call in a bit, to see how you're doing."

"Okay," Eric said.

Though she was obviously talking to Eric, Linda noticed that Calleigh was avoiding eye contact. Eric, on the other hand, kept trying to make her look at him. It wasn't working. Linda decided at that moment to leave them alone, they obviously needed to talk about something important, but Calleigh beat her to the door.

She held the doorknob in her hand, trying to think of something to say, but when it was obvious that her mind was blank, she walked out and closed the door behind her.

Linda looked at Eric with an expression of worry. "Is everything okay?"

Eric smiled insincerely. "Yeah, everything's fine."

Having a teenage boy, Linda knew when men lied. But the biggest mistake a person could make was getting in between the tribulations of a marriage, so she decided it was none of her business. "Hungry?"

Eric smiled genuinely. "Starving."

--

Calleigh ignored all the happy couples that tried to stop her and make chit chat about Eric's condition as she walked out of the bed and breakfast. Once she was outside, and no longer around people, she let out a sigh and darted towards the car. She felt her eyes stinging, but ignored the feeling as she put the car into drive and sped out of the parking lot.

She turned the radio on but could still hear the tormenting thoughts in her head. What the hell had she done? What was wrong with her? How could she let her guards down like that? Hell, Eric wasn't even feeling better yet and she'd kissed him, kissed him without thinking of his well being, without even stopping to consider the fact that she may have hurt his arm, his forehead.

Her heart was racing, faster than she could recall ever feeling it, and she was pretty sure she was sweating. She turned the AC way up but found air still lacked her. She felt an overwhelming urge to turn the car around and go back to Miami, leave Eric there, or go back home, to Louisiana, or Colorado, California, as far away from Eric as she could because how would she be able to face him again after what she'd done?

She couldn't. She knew that.

What was worse, she'd always had that reputation of being the reasonable one, the grounded one. Eric was usually the one who gave into romantic temptations at the drop of a hat. And now the roles were reverse. Her mind desperately tried to grasp the easiest and probably most ridiculous solutions to this problem. She could tender her resignation and go back to New Orleans. She could tell Horatio this wasn't going to work, with her and Eric in the same team, and she didn't want him to lose his job.

Not that she would have to try hard, anyway, because she was sure that as soon as Horatio found out he'd fire either one of them. And she had seniority. She knew this was her responsibility, it was her job to make sure things like these didn't happen. And she'd failed at that. It made sense that she was the one to go. Eric had done nothing but be patient with her, understanding, and then she'd gone and done the unthinkable.

She couldn't face him again. She just couldn't.

Her thoughts didn't even clear when she spotted the sheriff's station not too far away, but she at least welcomed the possibility of work. Work would clear her mind, if at least slightly, and help her forget what'd just happened.

So she pulled into the parking lot and the sheriff escorted her to the back room, where the small evidence they'd gathered laid on a table, along with a steaming cup of coffee. Corbin stood there as well, looking way too eager.

She fished a pair of gloves from her kit and began to work. She reached for Eric's gun first, and the first thing that caught her eye was the fact that the gun was cocked. That gave her a glimmer of hope. However, it quickly faded when she opened the magazine. It was full. She proceeded to check the chamber. There was a bullet inside. She suddenly felt that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach -- this was bad.

"His gun hasn't been fired," she sighed.

"Is that bad?" Corbin asked behind her, looking way to interested in the information.

Calleigh turned to him. "It means somebody else fired that shot."

The sheriff took that moment to enter the room. "Are you sure it was a gunshot, Miss Duquesne? I mean..."

"I've been working with guns since I was 5, sheriff Frankel," Calleigh said sternly. "I can assure you I know a gunshot when I hear one."

"Just making sure," the sheriff said apologetically.

"Okay," Calleigh said, trying to ignore his patronizing tone while reminding herself to keep a lid on her emotions. "I'm going to need a list of everyone who keeps a registered gun in town."

"Whoa, whoa," the sheriff chuckled. "What makes you think someone from Apalachicola did this?"

"Right now that seems like the only logical explanation – I doubt someone drove all the way from Miami just to try and shoot my partner, when they could've easily waited for us to get back home."

"Well, someone drove from Miami just to kill that girl, didn't they?" the sheriff said.

"We don't know that, actually," Calleigh said defensively.

"And it's oyster season," the sheriff continued. "D'you know how many tourists we have running around, taking their little pictures, what makes you think those people don't have guns, too?"

"I'm well aware of that," Calleigh said sharply, her voice raising, and uncrossed her arms, looking down. At that moment she realized how angry and bitter she felt. Angry and frustrated and for no apparent reason. So she took a deep breath and tried to control herself. "I'm just trying to narrow my list down. If someone in town owns a gun, or a rifle or any firearms I want to make sure they're checked out."

"Luke McAllen owns a rifle," Corbin chimed, trying to get rid of the tension. His uncle threw him a scornful look, but he never caught it. "And he lives right off the dam, too."

Calleigh smiled and looked at the sheriff. "Excellent."

--

Luke McAllen was an attractive, 30-year-old-something who lived just a few kilometers off the dam, shockingly, alone. He had a couple of hounds tied to his porch, but discounting them there wasn't another soul in sight.

Calleigh knew Southern people like she knew the back of her hand, and she knew instantly that Luke's politeness had disappeared the second he saw her badge, though he'd tried to remain nonchalant about it. By the time they made it inside his house, she knew she was unwelcome there and would have a hell of a hard time trying to get anything out of him.

Luckily, the sheriff had suddenly become cooperative.

"What were you doing yesterday afternoon, Luke?" he asked.

Calleigh took a sip of her tea as she waited for a response. Southern people may hate others, sometimes, but that never stopped them from whipping out the sweet tea.

"I was here," Luke said, ignoring Calleigh and looking at the sheriff.

"D'you have anyone over?"

"Just my hounds," Luke answered.

"Do you own a gun, Mr. McAllen?" Calleigh asked.

Luke finally looked at her and frowned. "Yeah, why?"

"Do you mind if I take a look at it?" Calleigh said.

Luke looked from her to the sheriff. "What is this about?"

The sheriff sat down. "Somebody tried to shoot an officer from Miami, Luke," he said. "We're just talking to everyone."

"Well, I was right here," Luke said. "Right here." He turned to Calleigh. "I'm not much of a people person."

Calleigh smiled. "Is it alright if I take a look at your shotgun, then?"

"What for?"

"Just get the damn gun, Luke," the sheriff said.

But Luke shook his head. "I'm sorry, sheriff, I can't do that."

"Why not?" Calleigh asked.

"You didn't bring a warrant," Luke said simply.

Calleigh looked up at the sheriff and then at Luke. "Mr. McAllen, you are aware that your refusal to cooperate implies..."

"Miss Duquesne, I know this is a rural area, but we aren't a bunch of ignorants," Luke said.

"I never said that," Calleigh said politely.

Luke stood up tall. "Well, I can't let you search my property without seeing a warrant."

"Luke, don't get all fancy," the sheriff said. "Just let us take a look at the damn gun."

"I'm sorry, sheriff," Luke said. "But I know that in order to search a property you have to have a warrant."

The sheriff sighed as he stood up. "This from a guy who didn't even finish high school."

"I know the law," Luke said, and walked them towards the door. "You can look at the gun, but you'll have to bring a warrant with you."

Calleigh walked out to the porch and turned around. "We'll get the warrant. In the meantime, I suggest you don't try and clean your gun. I'll know if you do."

Luke looked down, intimidated, for the first time since they'd been there.

"We'll be back, Mr. McAllen," Calleigh said, and followed the sheriff back to the patrol car.

Once Luke shut the door, the sheriff looked down at her. "That didn't go over too good, did it?"

"He's hiding something," Calleigh muttered.

The sheriff narrowed his eyes. "How'd you know?"

"I know men," Calleigh, smiling up at him.

"Well, you're just a feisty one, aren't you?"

Calleigh actually chuckled, for the first time in days, and it felt great. At that moment, Corbin stumbled towards them.

"Well, where the hell were you, looking for wood elves?" the sheriff said.

"Sorry, Uncle Charlie," Corbin said, lowering his head slightly like a dog being scolded. "I had to take a leak."

"Great, Corbin, nice of you to share that information with us," the sheriff said sarcastically. "Luke has indoor plumbing, you know."

"I know," Corbin said, looking ashamed about having the conversation in front of Calleigh. "Just..."

"Yeah, yeah," the sheriff said. "Go on, get in the car."

Calleigh smiled as she sat in the front. It was when she came in contact with people like Corbin and the sheriff that she realized how much she missed home.

--

A little before noon, Calleigh stood near the dam, searching the area and walking towards the tree Eric fell from. Corbin and the sheriff followed her, trying to keep up with all the instructions she gave them as they looked for anything that might seem out of the ordinary.

They finally made it to the infamous tree. There was yellow tape all around it and Calleigh ducked under it, trying to hide the feelings of trepidation that came with seeing the exact spot where Eric laid the day before, nearly dead. The broken branch lay in the same place and she picked it up, inspecting it, but put it back when she found nothing of immediate importance in it.

She looked up at the tree and at all the surrounding ones. She sun blocked her view and she used her hands as a vicer. The forest seemed so calm, sounded so calm, that she probably could've fooled anyone into thinking she was there on vacation. And it was beautiful out there, so serene and calming, if it weren't for the circumstances this could've been her favorite place in the world.

"What are we looking for now?" the sheriff asked, obviously not sharing her fascination.

"A bullet," Calleigh replied.

Corbin and the sheriff looked at each other, and then looked at her. "A bullet?" Corbin asked.

Calleigh looked at them. "Yeah. There was a shot. If there was a shot there's a bullet. If there's a bullet, we have to find it."

"Uh, Miss Duquesne," the sheriff began. "Do you really expect us to find a bullet out here?"

"The bullet is out here," Calleigh said.

"But it could've gone anywhere," Corbin said, contradicting Calleigh for the first time since they'd met.

"That's true," Calleigh said. "Which is why we need more men out here."

The sheriff looked at her, somehow not being able to believe what she was telling him.

Calleigh looked at them and smiled charmingly. "I know, I know. But... if we do find it and we match it to Luke McAllen's shotgun... let me put it this way, you'll get rid of me faster than you thought you would."

She watched as they both practically melted in front of her. Not that she was proud of using her feminine assets to manipulate people, but in this case it was important.

"Tell 'ya what," the sheriff said. "I have to go see my wife about lunch, and after that we can come back, get a coupe of ladders, couple of saws, couple of men, and we'll try to find that bullet of yours."

Calleigh smiled. "Thank you, sheriff."

They returned to the station, where the sheriff went on to have his lunch and Calleigh returned to the back room. She took out the hair Eric had found from the little envelope and inspected it, put it in a bag to send it to Miami. She next began to examine the clothes they found by the river, and though they were still humid and smelly she had no doubt she'd be able to find something on them, blood, or a hair... anything that might give her a clue as to what happened to Sue out there.

"Uh, excuse me?"

She turned around and Corbin stood by the door, looking nervous. He always looked nervous, but Calleigh thought he looked more hesitant now.

"You're not gonna have lunch?"

"I have work to do," Calleigh said, going back to inspect the clothes closely.

"Well, uh," Corbin continued. "You know, I don't know about you, but I can't work when I'm hungry."

"I can," Calleigh replied.

Corbin nodded. "Well, uh... there's a diner, not too far from here."

Calleigh turned around.

"I was gonna go get myself a cup of coffee, maybe you want to come along?"

Calleigh gave him a weird look. It wasn't the prospect of having coffee with a fellow officer, but maybe the way that Corbin acted around her that made her a bit nervous. Not terribly nervous, or the kind of nervous she felt when she knew her life was in danger, just nervous. She was usually okay about having guys like Corbin follow her around, it was really no big deal. In fact, deep down, she sort of liked the attention. But then, something was different now and she didn't know why.

No, she was lying to herself again. She knew exactly why. It was Eric. Of course. Eric. It was always Eric, no matter how many years passed, no matter how many times or how hard she pushed him away, or he pushed her away, or how hard they denied it... it always came back to Eric. She felt angry at herself at that moment, for things she still couldn't even understand. She was angry at herself, angry at Eric and at this situation and remembering what happened that morning only intensified that feeling. And she felt stupid for feeling that way, for feeling bad that Corbin liked her because there was always Eric and there would always be Eric.

She realized quickly that Corbin was looking at her expectantly and she took a deep breath to try and solidify her mask better. She plastered her best fake smile on her face and put the clothes away, reluctantly, and turned back to see Corbin there, and he wasn't even trying to hide how nervous he was.

"Coffee sounds good."

--

An hour later, Calleigh stared at the few pink packages of sugar that lay in front of her in pieces as she swirled her coffee around with a tiny straw. For the past few minutes she'd tried to pay attention to the things Corbin said but found herself distracted. Not that it would've mattered anyway, because she got the feeling Corbin was talking just to talk, to make the situation a little less awkward. It was weird, because she'd never been the silent type, not only because it was rude, but because she normally had a lot to say. But now... maybe it was the company or the awful coffee, but she found herself wishing Corbin would stay quiet for a couple of minutes, just a couple of minutes as she attempted to put this huge jumble of thoughts in her head together.

As Corbin talked about his family, his friends, what it was like growing up in Apalachicola, Calleigh's eyes drifted towards her cell phone, which rested on the table. Her fingers were itching to pick it up and call Eric, because regardless of what had happened between them that morning, he'd still fallen off a tree, he still had stitches on his forehead and he still had a sprained wrist. He also needed to know when to take his medication, how to take it and just... she wanted to make sure he was okay.

"Would you excuse me, Corbin? I have to go to the bathroom," she said with a polite smile.

"Of course!" Corbin said and stood up as she did.

Calleigh picked up her cell phone and walked away, her pace a bit hasty. She stood outside the ladies bathroom and began to walk in circles. She looked down at her cell phone, knew which button to push to call his number but now that she had the privacy she found she couldn't muster up the courage to call.

She bit her lower lip and sighed, trying to come up with something to tell him, even if the words would sound monotonous or rehearsed. She tried to think of all his possible responses, came up with her own and that way the call would maybe end quickly. But she found she just didn't have anything to say. Or maybe she had too many things to say. Either way, she found herself getting nervous -- over a phone call. She had to laugh cynically at the thought. She must've talked to Eric over the phone over a billion times and now she couldn't even bring herself to dial his number.

If would be funny, if it weren't for the fact that it wasn't.

In the end, she ended up calling Linda, who assured her Eric was fine and was currently teaching Brian how to lift a fingerprint, much to Brian's delight. Calleigh smiled, no longer worried about Eric's health but still feeling guilty. Sooner or later she would have to face him and just thinking about that moment made her nauseous, but she tried to put it out of her mind.

She went back to the table and found Corbin standing next to it, hat in hand and waiting.

"Uncle Charlie, I mean, the sheriff called," he said comically. "He wants to get this whole bullet deal out of the way before it gets too dark."

Calleigh looked at her watch. It was merely 1 o'clock, but she smiled. "Okay."

--

As she stood back and watched the men work, Calleigh started to feel this was a lost cause. The sheriff hadn't been able to gather as many men as she'd hoped, and the ones who'd shown up didn't seem to know what their job was. They were merely walking around, kicking away the leaves or looking up at the trees, and only 3 hours after they'd started they'd already given up hope. Most of them were mumbling to themselves, or wandering around without looking hard enough... at that moment she wanted nothing but to scream.

The feeling intensified when she saw the sheriff approaching.

"I gotta tell you something," he said as he came up and stood beside her. "I never thought it could get worse than trying to find a needle in a haystack."

Calleigh sighed and rubbed her temples, and trying to hide her frustration was futile.

"Well, come on now, there's gotta be another way," the sheriff said.

"There is no other way," she said somberly. "If we don't find that bullet there's no way we'll be able to prove Luke McAllen was here."

"Well, isn't your partner a witness?"

Calleigh looked up at him.

"But he didn't see anything, did he?" the sheriff added.

Calleigh looked forward and was lost in thought for a second before she answered. "I think he did," she said, though mostly to herself, trying to force herself to remain optimistic. "I mean, why would Eric cock his gun? At that height? He had to have seen something. He did see something."

"But he doesn't remember."

Calleigh sighed again. She was starting to feel like this would become another one of Miami's many cold cases. She would have to face Sue's parents again and tell them there was nothing they could do because there was no bullet and Eric's memory was gone and their daughter's murder would have to go unsolved. She really hated this job sometimes.

"Well, isn't hope the last thing you folks lose?" the sheriff asked.

She looked up at him and raised her eyebrow. "In this line of work? There is no hope. There's deadlines and backed up analysts, and other cases to see to, and by the end of the day the only thing you can hope for is that you can at least get 8 hours of sleep before some idiot kills someone and you have to be back in the field the next morning."

"Sounds like you really love your job," the sheriff said, shifting on his feet.

Calleigh smiled weakly before she walked away to join the men. She walked through the fallen leaves and shone her flashlight at them, hoping something would glisten. She looked up at the tall trees, but the sun would only allow her to see a few feet up. She thought of Eric, wondered if there was a way he could get his memory back and at least tell her why he cocked his gun. Hard to believe a couple of days ago this was just another standard case, that they'd driven to Apalachicola simply to retrieve some evidence. Hard to believe.

And now one of them was bed-bound, the killer was in town, and they had absolutely no way of figuring out who it was. The killer was in town and it was a tiny, tiny town and yet they couldn't even find one suspect except Luke McAllen, who seemed to have committed the perfect murder. The killer was in town, which meant all the residents of Apalachicola were in danger and if he or she decided to strike again there was nothing she or Eric would be able to do to stop it from happening.

She continued walking, for an hour, two, she couldn't tell. At one point she ended up back in the area where Eric had fallen, and when she looked up she found the sheriff with his men, next to a few pick-up trucks, waiting for her. She looked around once more, not wanting to leave or give up but something inside of her had been defeated too long ago.

As she walked towards the patrol car she began to think of what she would say to Sue's parents.

--

Thought she'd never believed in the idea of a great, magical creature in the heavens overseeing every little moment of their lives, Calleigh said a silent prayer as she put the little evidence they had on a few bags and sent it to Miami. She wished, with unbelievable yearning, that they had the necessary equipment there with them, that way they wouldn't have to wait God knows how long for the evidence to be processed, but there was nothing to do now but sit back and wait for a mysterious bullet to fall out of nowhere and into her lap.

She tried to find something to do at the sheriff's station, but with the evidence now on the road she quickly realized she would have to go back to the bed and breakfast.

Her heart began to beat faster the moment she realized this.

And it was ridiculous, the fact that she was driving slower than usual to avoid the inevitable, but she couldn't help it. She began to think of what happened in the morning, between her and Eric, and the urge to disappear was unbearable. It didn't help that she was driving, she had a car at her disposal and she had gas money and she could go anywhere she wanted.

She began to talk to herself, like a crazy person, to try to calm down but nothing seemed to be working. It angered her, because since she was little she'd always been able to mask her emotions like a pro. It was easy, when her mother was emotionally gone and her father was on a bender and she could just pretend everything was okay. For some reason those phenomenal events were easy to ignore, and yet here she was, having a hard time trying to convince herself it was just a kiss, a kiss, a mistake, an accident, just something that happened because she and Eric were not thinking straight, and that she would see him again in a couple of minutes and they would both admit it was just an accident and things would get back to normal. Funny, because as her father would rant and yell and throw things at the walls she would lay in bed pretending nothing was happening, everything was okay, but this… this was too hard to ignore, to label as 'nothing' because it was everything. She tried, but no amount of denial could convince her it had been an accident.

She found an available parking in front of the B&B, turned off the engine and waited. From the car, she could see a couple of people mulling around the giant house, couples, mostly, looking for fireflies and marveling at the silence and the beauty of the town. No doubt to them this was the most romantic place in the world. She couldn't help feeling a bit bitter.

She walked in and Brian was behind the desk, talking on the phone, to his girlfriend, probably, because he never looked up once. Calleigh couldn't deny she was glad, because the idea of making chit chat with a teenager wasn't on her list of things she was looking forward to tonight.

Then again, neither was seeing Eric again.

But she climbed the stairs anyway, dreading each step and mustering up the little courage she had left. The door to their room was closed and as she stood outside she briefly wondered if she should knock or not. A day before she would've just waltzed in, this was Eric, after all, but now...

She put her hand on the knob and rested her head on the door, hoping he would sense her there and spare her the embarrassment of having to make a forced polite entrance.

"Eric?" she said and her voice trembled a little, and she quickly chastised herself for that. What the hell was wrong with her? When had she become this pathetic?

She turned the knob at the thought and just walked in, all of a sudden with an amount of confidence she didn't know she had in her. She found him on his feet, carrying a shirt with his good hand and when he sensed her there he looked up and gave her a half smile.

"Hey."

"Hey," she replied, getting a taste of the fake personalities because no matter how much they worked or how tired they were, they had never been 'hey' people. Speed was a 'hey' person. They weren't. Had they changed in the 9 hours they'd been apart?

She still reciprocated a smile, but it waned when she saw one of his bags on the bed. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Uh," Eric said a little hesitantly, putting the shirt down. "Stephanie called. She found a room in town."

Calleigh raised her eyebrows, not knowing how to react to the news, not knowing exactly what the news was. "A room?"

"A hotel room," Eric explained. "She made the reservation. It's nicer here, so you should stay. I'll go over there."

As he went back to his packing, Calleigh opened her mouth to say something but no words came out. She watched him as he continued putting his clothes in the bag, and without having to see his face she detected a certain glumness in his stance, the way his shoulders were hunched over. It reminded her of the way he was acting at the hospital, when she was allowed to finally see him. He was acting the way he always acted when he was trying to hide something – guilty.

She took a couple of steps forward, crossing her arms in front of her. "What about your head and your arm."

"I feel fine," Eric said, looking at her briefly before he returned to packing. "Just need you to drive me there, that's all. You don't mind, right? I can call a cab."

"No, no," Calleigh said. She took a deep breath and looked around as she injected her hands into her back pockets, still trying to figure out what was happening and trying to tell herself this was good, because there was no way they would be able to sleep together in that bed again, not after what happened that morning.

It was good news, the best thing that could've happened, and yet she still couldn't put a label on her emotions, because even though it was good, it just... wasn't.

"I, uh," she said as she walked over and watched him pack. "I checked your gun, it wasn't fired. We tried to find a bullet in the woods, but that went nowhere. There's a suspect -- well, he's acting a bit suspicious and he leaves near the dam, but," she said and sighed. "I don't know, Eric. This case is just..." She stopped there.

Eric sat on the bed and watched her. She looked nothing like the Calleigh he'd always known. "Cal, we can just go home," he suggested. "We can work it from Miami; I'm sure Horatio's not happy about being short two CSIs."

She shook her head at the thought, her head dropping. "No. I don't wanna walk away like this."

Eric nodded, knowing that was that. You don't talk Calleigh out of things. You let her work herself to the ground until she's completely beaten and then if she lets you, you pick her up and try to put her together.

If she lets you.

"Do you need help?" she asked.

"Uh," Eric said, looking at his bag. "No, that's it."

She nodded and looked at him. "When did Stephanie call?"

"This afternoon," he replied.

She stopped herself before she asked the second question. Now was not the time to drill Eric about this new hotel room and even if she was, she was just being paranoid again. She knew Eric, better than she knew herself, and she knew he wouldn't randomly get a hotel room just to run away from her. Eric wasn't the type to run away, she was.

Miraculously, they were able to slip out without being noticed, and though she tried to drown out the awkwardness with stupid details about the case as they drove to the motel, she couldn't help feeling it still.

Eric mostly nodded and looked out the window, feeling much of what she was feeling and wondering how long they would be able to go on without talking about what happened that morning. He knew Calleigh could go on for years, hell, the woman could live through an apocalypse without flinching, but he wasn't like her, he couldn't ignore things, especially things that related to Calleigh.

Thankfully, Apalachicola was tiny and they arrived at their destination in a hurry, of course, that could also be due to the fact that Calleigh was driving like her hair had caught on fire. As soon as they pulled into the parking lot of the little motel he looked at her and spotted Calleigh's trademark look of disapproval. He braced himself for what was coming, though what was coming was definitely better than the awkward chatting.

"Eric, it's on the second floor."

There it was. If there were special Calleigh Olympics, he'd win the gold every single time.

He ignored her as he opened the door and walked all the way to the back to the trunk. The woman must've had amazing speed, because she was already leaning against the trunk, her arms crossed, when he got there.

"Hi," Eric said, plastering a smile on his face that would hopefully lighten up the moment.

It didn't.

Her face fell and she looked at him the way his mother used to look at him when she wanted him to stop being a smartass. "Eric."

He sighed at her tone and looked up at the room. "Calleigh, I'm not an invalid."

"The doctor said to take it easy," she said.

Eric opened the trunk and took his things out, or tried, anyway, because Calleigh immediately latched on to the biggest bag.

Eric looked at her. "It's not gonna kill me to go up 15 steps."

"28."

"Whatever."

"And what are you gonna do when you get hungry? Have you even eaten yet?"

"I'll order a pizza," Eric replied. "You're more than welcome to stay and eat half of it."

She didn't find that funny either, merely followed him towards the front desk with a great look of disapproval on her face. Even after he got the keys she still looked reluctant, and that feeling increased as they approached the stairs.

Eric looked up, trying to hide his hesitation. Just two flights. A day before he could've ran them up and down without losing his breath. Now... they actually looked intimidating. Just two flights. And it wasn't the physical pain, because the physical pain was almost non-existent, it was something else that he couldn't figure out.

He looked down at Calleigh and she looked sympathetic and supportive for the first time that night, and strangely, that gave him a little bit of a morale boost.

He took a deep breath and climbed up one step. Two. He felt her hand on his arm, and though it wasn't helping him physically in any way, he found it reduced the strain. They rested after the 6th step and he continued again, albeit slowly. He could already feel the beginning of a headache, but he didn't stop. Not out of stubbornness, but to show Calleigh there was nothing to worry about. So when they finally made it to the second floor his head was pounding painfully, but he tried not to show it.

Calleigh walked up to his room and opened the door. She put his bag down, turned the lights on and immediately began to scrutinize the room. He let her check the bathroom as he sat on the bed, half amused and half spent.

When she came out, she looked uncertain still.

"Does it meet Calleigh Duquesne's standards?"

Though he meant it as a joke she definitely didn't take it that way. Instead, she looked down at him, with her arms crossed, like she was trying to decide whether she could trust him or not.

"I'm just gonna sleep here, Cal, it's not like I'm gonna start jumping on the bed as soon as you leave," Eric said.

Looking at him, Calleigh knew there was a great chance he did enjoy jumping on beds, but behind his mirth hid a serious look. She knew he was a bit scared, or hesitant, something.

But too tired to chain him to the bed and make sure he didn't hurt himself, she merely reproduced two little bottles from her purse. "Take one now and another one in an hour."

"I know, Calleigh," Eric said. "The instructions are right on the bottle, and I've been an expert reader for 25 years now."

Calleigh placed the bottles on the night table with a sigh, feeling her mood shift aggressively for the nth time that day. "I really wish you'd stop joking for 5 minutes."

Eric shook his head disbelievingly and turned to her. He didn't know why he was suddenly so angry, but he was. "Alright. You don't wanna joke? That's fine. How about we talk about what happened this morning?"

Her expression turned serious, too serious, before she looked away. But even with her back to him the tension was evident in the way her back muscles contracted.

Eric chuckled cynically. "That's what I thought."

Calleigh shook her head before she turned to him, feeling her blood boiling. "What the hell is your problem, Eric? I'm just trying to make sure you're safe."

"No, Calleigh, you're trying to obsess over something that doesn't exist so you can ignore what's happening, which is just typical of you," Eric spat.

"So what, I should be more like you?" she retorted, her voice raising. " Because you're so perfect. That's what you're known for, making the best decisions."

"Yeah, well, you know what? At least I'm not scared of my own shadow, Calleigh. At least I'm not a coward," Eric replied, his voice just as loud and venomous.

Calleigh narrowed her eyes at him, her mouth partially opened and the rage was so immense at that point she felt like she was going to explode. Instead of hurting him, physically or emotionally, which quickly became an overwhelming urge, she shook her head and turned away.

"Go to hell, Eric," she said as she opened the door, walked out, and slammed it behind her with unbelievable force.

Eric felt the room shake for a couple of seconds and he didn't have to wait long to realize what had just happened. He ran his hands through his face, feeling the headache reach an unbelievable level of painful before he tried to stand up. The room began to spin pretty much immediately but he ignored the wave of nausea as he futilely made his way to the door.

He walked out of the room in time to see the Hummer speed away.

--

Calleigh ignored all the happy couples outside the bed and breakfast – again – as she rushed up to the room. Once inside, she threw her purse in a corner, took her gun out of the holster and practically smacked it on the table. She massaged her temples to try to make the headache go away, but no matter how much she tried she knew there was a possibility she would have that headache for days.

She walked into the bathroom, grabbed a towel and turned the shower on, because the other alternative was to sit in bed and brood and cry and there was no way she would let herself cry over this. There was no way she would let herself cry, period.

She stripped her clothes off and stepped into the shower and the water was too hot but she didn't care. She rested her head against the cold tiles and tried to think, come up with any passive thoughts and yet there was nothing in her mind but thoughts of hurting Eric and thoughts that reminded her how much she hated him and how if it was possible she never wanted to see him again.

Her eyes began to sting but she ducked her head under the water and waited there until some of the anger subsided. When she was done, she turned the water off and stepped out, goosebumps forming on her skin as it met the cold breeze from outside.

She changed and as she brushed he hair she couldn't help thinking this was the first fight she'd ever had with Eric. Years of friendship and this was the first time they'd yelled at each other like that. Sure, there had been conflicts of opinion, over cases, but it had never gotten personal. It had never escalated into this.

This trip never should've happened. That kiss never should've happened because now everything had changed and she didn't know if they could ever go back to just being friends. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, because no matter what happened he was still her best friend, her closest friend, the only person she'd ever been able to trust blindly. And now, there was a chance that had all been destroyed tonight.

She again ignored the stinging in her eyes as she drew the comforters back and lay in bed. As soon as she turned the lamp off her cell phone began to ring. She knew it was him, calling to apologize because that was Eric, Mr. Functionality, the puppy with his tail between his legs, the guy who couldn't ignore his Catholic upbringing and whose whole life would turn upside down at the faintest amount of guilt.

Calleigh ignored the ringing and turned on her side, and eventually it stopped.

And it was a little ironic, that suddenly she had the big bed all to herself but she couldn't fall asleep. Weird, too, because she was exhausted, emotionally and physically, and yet no matter how many times she tossed and turned, sleep still eluded her.

In the end, she kicked the sheets away angrily and grabbed the file that sat on the little table. She walked out of the room and slipped downstairs. Brian was falling asleep on the front desk and without being noticed she walked out the back of the house.

She discovered a lanai furnished completely in wicker – wicker chairs, wicker center table, wicker couch – and God she hated wicker, but she found a comfortable spot in the tiny couch and put her legs up as she opened the file. She stared at the words but they made no sense. Just like this case. Just like this trip and just about everything else. She shut the folder closed and stared straight ahead as the trees rocked back and forth in the night breeze.

She felt something warm and soft over her shoulders; a blanket. Calleigh looked up and saw Linda standing there, smile on her face.

"Thought you might be cold out here," she said.

"Thank you," Calleigh said, wrapping the blanket tight around her.

Linda chuckled, sitting by Calleigh's feet. "Can't sleep?"

Calleigh shook her head, trying to smile but she was sure it didn't come out right.

"Where's your husband?"

Calleigh looked up at Linda questioningly and it took her a moment to figure out what she had meant. She wondered if she was allowed to put an end to this charade now.

"Oh, I don't know," she said hesitantly. "He found a place to stay, in town."

Linda frowned. "I thought things were okay—"

"It's, it's," Calleigh stuttered, not really knowing what to say. "It's a little complicated."

Linda's face suddenly looked pitiful and sad. "I'm sorry, honey."

"It's okay," Calleigh said dismissively. "It's really nothing."

"I'm sure you two will work things out," Linda said.

"Yeah," Calleigh said. "It's just a little... complicated."

Linda smiled warmly at her. "You know, when Brian's dad left us I thought I was gonna die," she started. "Bless his soul."

"He passed away?" Calleigh asked.

"Three years ago," Linda answered.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, it's not your fault," Linda said.

Calleigh smiled sympathetically. "How long were you married?"

"Twenty years this November. Straight out of high school."

"Wow," Calleigh said.

Linda smiled. "It's those little things, isn't it? Like sleep. Who would've thought? One minute you're kicking him because he's snoring too loud, the next you can't sleep because he's not snoring at all."

Calleigh nodded, looking away and wondering if Linda knew how much she didn't want to have this conversation right now.

"You know, you get married, and you think those little things are going to annoy you for the rest of your life, but then suddenly those little things become your life," Linda continued. "You never imagine you could miss them until they're taken away from you."

Calleigh looked down, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly and hoping that would allow her to remain as emotionally detached from the conversation as she could. A week before she thought she and Eric were going to have a great time visiting Northern Florida. Now, she could safely say it had turned into one of the worst trips of her life, if not the worst.

Linda sensed her discomfort and covered Calleigh's hand with her own. "Well, I'm not worried about this at all and you shouldn't be, either," she said energetically and slapped her thighs as she stood up. "I've seen the way he looks at you. There's love there."

Calleigh allowed a half a smile into her face as Linda walked away and back into the house, but the smile faded when she found herself alone again. Playing with the corners of the folder, she bit her lower lip, and now that the anger was gone the only thing left in her was the faint realization that Eric had been right. Of course, you can't be friends with Eric for more than 5 years without getting some of those guilt issues transferred on to you. And though she was still pissed at him – furious, because he'd still been a jackass – she knew she was also mad at herself.

After all, if she hadn't kissed him that morning none of this would've happened. If she hadn't insisted on turning this into a road trip they'd be in Miami right now, having dinner or watching a movie as good friends do. If she hadn't gone up to him and introduced herself five years ago... God knows what would've happened, but definitely not this. And that's all it came down to. Bad decisions. She'd acused him of having terrible judgement but the truth was she was just as bad as he, and maybe worse, because at least he was always willing to admit to his mistakes, which was something she definitely wasn't known for.

When the temperature began to drop some more she went back into the room, picked up her cell phone and there were now three missed calls. Sighing, she put her cell phone away and climbed into bed, wondering what would happen now. Even if they both apologized and put the fight behind them Calleigh couldn't see how things would ever be normal again. Everything had changed so quickly and unexpectedly she suddenly wondered if she was dreaming all of this. Was there a possibility that this wasn't happening at all, that she would wake up in a few hours in Miami and Eric would just be her best friend? And even if it wasn't a dream - or a nightmare - would they ever find a way to fix this?

She turned the lamp off, closed her eyes, and waited for sleep, hoping it would be able to find her quickly.

To be continued...