Disclaimer, Rating, Pairing: See Chapter 1
Spoilers: 10-7, Killer Date, Whacked
AN: Here's chapter two! I hope you like it. And please remember that this should be happening at the end of May, so football season wouldn't have started yet. So they don't necessarily go with the what has actually happened this season. As always let me know what you think! Thanks for the comments. I really appreciate them. I'm working on part three now. Enjoy.
4th & Long: First Down!
And the games keeps going.
Driving at 3:45 am was the closest Miami came to having no traffic, and Eric arrived at Calleigh's chosen beach in ten minutes, glad she'd picked a near by stretch of shore. Driving while nauseated wasn't generally considered a good idea.
Headlights shinning eerily off the ocean's surface, Eric parked next to the only other can in the parking lot. Calleigh's.
Carrying both blankets, he quietly walked the hundred yards to the lone person sitting in the sand. Without a word, he draped one of the blankets around her shoulders, and then doing the same for himself, sat down beside her.
The moonlight made him look pale to begin with, but it only took a single look for Calleigh to notice his slightly green skin tone. "Eric, what happened?"
He looked at her for several long moments, reassuring himself that physically she was alive and well and using the time to turn thoughts into words.
"It was just a dream. But after everything that happened today, I needed to know you were okay," he answered. "I didn't mean to worry you." He turned to face the water. She looked beyond exhausted. Her swollen and red rimmed eyes betraying the calm façade she was trying to project.
Calleigh returned his gaze to the water, wondering what he could have dreamt that would have this effect on him. She pulled the blanket more tightly around her shoulders, grateful he'd thought to bring it.
She'd been sitting her since she left the lab. Sunset has seen the disappearance of the young children and their parents frolicking in the water, giving way to teenagers and strolling couples. Calleigh had watched them dispassionately, her mind replaying time spent with John Hagen. The good memories had faded with the last light of day, leaving her slogging through the emotional battleground they traversed during their time together. But as Miami's night life took hold, both the beach and Calleigh's memories had emptied, leaving her emotionally lost. That was when the tears had come. The physical release to accompany her emotional black hole.
Grateful for the utter absence of people, Calleigh had not fought the tears. Not entirely sure just who she was crying for, Calleigh had let the tears run silently down her face. Not sobbing, but not in control either. Eventually the tears had subsided and an empty calm had taken their place.
The closing of the local bars and clubs had brought the drunk, sweaty, and tired twenty-something culture to the beach. And Calleigh had been grateful the tears were finally gone. It would have been difficult to explain a crying woman sitting alone on the beach in the middle of the night, even to drunk partiers. But the beach and chilly night had not their attention any longer than Calleigh had, and the partiers had quickly left.
The ensuing silence had been deafening, the partiers taking her mindless calm with them when they departed. With a breeze coming off the water and making her shiver Calleigh had been almost overwhelmed by a sense of loneliness and guilt. The gentle rhythm of the ocean no longer providing a soothing calm, but an endless beat unaware of anything happening on the beach.
Approaching desperate to leave but too tired to move and face her empty apartment, Calleigh had stayed. She wasn't sure how much time had passed when her ringing cell phone startled her. She answered on reflex, her voice annoyed, but inside glad for the presence of another person. But she hadn't counted on a panicking Eric being on the line. And now here they were, sitting side by side, watching the reflection of the moon on the surface of the ocean.
Calleigh turned to look at Eric. He no longer looked green. "Feeling better?" she asked.
Eric gave her a mirthless smile. "I'm not going to hurl on you, if that's what you're asking."
A tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Must have been some dream."
Eric looked away. "It was."
Now that they were talking Calleigh didn't want to stop. His physical presence and voice were the only things keeping the loneliness and guilt at bay. "And I'm guessing since you're here, I was involved."
"Yeah."
Taking his laconic answers to mean the events of the dream were a non-topic, Calleigh moved the conversation to the NFL. Anything to avoid silence. "You watch the draft this year? Unfortunately I don't think the Dolphins will win the AFC East."
Eric looked at her in surprise. "What?"
Calleigh gave him a tired but innocent look. When he didn't answer she tried Nascar. "So far Jeff Gordon isn't having much luck in the Nextel series."
"Nascar, Calleigh? I didn't think you followed Nascar."
"I like the cars," she defended.
Eric rolled his eyes. "Yeah. I remember you and the Nascar cars. You like the car, not the engines."
Calleigh shrugged, but looked away. "The cars are impressive. As a whole."
Eric gave her a wry smile. "So we're gonna sit here at," he checked his watch, "4:30 in the morning and discuss Nascar and the NFL?"
Calleigh again shrugged, pulling her blanket closer.
"You wanna talk Calleigh, let's talk."
Eric watched her for a moment. Never one to open up about her feelings, he wasn't surprised that she wouldn't talk about why they were really there. And he didn't want to compound any of her emotional distress by explaining the dream. In truth he wasn't sure he could get it out. But her blatant distractions lacked her normal finesse. Yet another example of her exhaustion. So if she wanted to talk, he would talk.
"Honestly, I missed most of the draft. But I think it'd take a lot to turn the Dolphins into a serious conference contender."
Calleigh gave him a grateful smile, and leaned her head against his shoulder for a moment. "You think the Patriots will go all the way again?"
"Don't know. But I don't think Jake Delhomme and the Panthers will make it a second time."
"Poor Jake. He went to Louisiana- Lafayette." She shook her head sadly.
"You still rooting for the Saints?" he inquired cheekily.
"Always," she drawled. Calleigh's teasing smile was a ghost of its usual self, but it was there, and Eric relaxed a little.
When the sun finally came up, they were still sitting there, though the conversation had wandered from pro football to the upcoming college season. Eric was arguing that the U of Miami Hurricanes could make a run for the BCS title when his stomach growled loudly.
Calleigh's tired laugh was punctuated by a yawn.
Eric stood and reached a hand out to her. "I need breakfast, and I need to shower before shift."
Calleigh has calmly extended her hand to him until he mentioned work.
Eric watched the tension rush back into Calleigh's body, and mentally kicked himself. He pulled her to her feet and looked her straight in the eye. "Don't take this the wrong way, Cal. But maybe you should take a personal day. Just to get some sleep," he added trying not to come off as patronizing.
"I have twelve open cases, Eric. They can't wait. I shouldn't have left last night." Her voice had taken on a rough edge, and Eric could see guilt clouding her eyes once more.
"Working those cases on no sleep, you risk missing something. That's worse than delaying it a day. Get some sleep, and then go in tomorrow and attack." He gave her a teasing smile. "Just don't leave me alone with Wolfe for too long."
Calleigh allowed him to lead her to their cars, but she didn't verbally respond. She agreed with Eric about working the cases on no sleep. It was one thing to track a single case for 24 hours. Trying to manage twelve was something else altogether. And truth be told, she wasn't sure she was ready to face the shooting box again. But going home didn't seem like much of an option either. An empty apartment full of memories, both good and bad, with an answering machine begging for attention wouldn't leave her relaxed enough to sleep.
Eric watched her as they walked to the cars, noting her lack of emotion toward either option. Remembering his own desire to be anywhere but alone after Speed's death, a reaction that had almost cost him his badge, Eric offered a third option. Besides, she really shouldn't be driving anyway.
"Are you hungry?" he asked gently pushing Calleigh toward the passenger side of his car.
Calleigh gave him a noncommittal shrug. "Eric, I need my car."
"You said you trust me," he responded quietly.
"Eric…"
"Then trust me with this. I'm not trying to undermine you or doubting you. But you're a zombie. So let's go back to my place, grab something to eat, and if you don't want to go to your apartment, you can crash on my couch. I'll take care of telling H."
She looked up at him in surprise when he mentioned the couch. "How did you..." She started to ask about how he knew she didn't want to go home, but a yawn stole the words and left her eyes watering. She was dead on her feet, too tired to fight. "Okay. But what about my car?"
Eric opened the car door for her and then moved to the driver's side. "I'll get Wolfe to help get it back at lunch. His penance for blabbing to that reporter."