Chapter 2

"I'm fine, Calleigh," Eric insisted for the eighth time. "Nitrogen narcosis only lasts for a handful of minutes. I was fine before we got back to shore."

"I know that's what you said," Calleigh said, looking down at him where he sat perched in front of her on a lab table. "But I've never seen you like that after a dive. You're sure you don't need to take the afternoon off?"

"We have a case to solve, Cal. Stop mothering me."

"I take offense to that, Delko," Calleigh scoffed with a laugh and a grin.

Her grin forced a wide smile across Eric's face. He dipped his head and peered up at Calleigh at that one perfect angle that always got to her. It was the look that settled any argument, bridged any gap, and calmed any fears.

"Stop it with the look, Eric. You know I can't resist that look..."

Eric's grin split even wider, and he tossed his head back in laughter. He stood up and planted a kiss on his partner's cheek as he headed toward the door. "Aren't you needed in Firearms, or something?"

Calleigh followed him out the door. "No. Maybe. Okay, yes. There's a speargun with my name on it in the lab."

"Then get to it, Duquesne. I have a date with Speed upstairs."

"Break it up, you two. Delko, what's taking so long?" Speedle had poked his head around the corner. "Clock's ticking."

They were an unbeatable team, but sometimes Calleigh thought her two fellow CSIs would send her to an early grave. Tim with his impatience and Eric with…everything else. She watched the two of them walk down the hall until they disappeared and then made her own way down to the ballistics lab.

Eric. She wasn't sure why she felt so unsettled today, thinking he might be hurt. She'd seen him injured on the job before, and she'd taken care of him when he was sick, too. Today seemed different, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know why.

If she were honest with herself, she did know why. Eric tugged on her heart strings a little bit more than a standard best friend should. It was totally innocent, though. "Wasn't it?" the voice in her head said.

Calleigh shoved that thought down as quickly as it surfaced. She had a boyfriend—if that's what John could be called—Delko was her partner, and that thought was a stone she planned to leave unturned.

The blonde woman shook her head to clear it and made her way downstairs to her sanctuary. She took a deep breath as she pushed her weight against the double doors to the lab and let it out in a 'whoosh' when she stepped through them.

With a smile on her face, Calleigh got to work.

The victim had been pinned against the inside hull of the ship by a spear. Given the small amount of space inside the boat, the speargun would have needed to pack one hell of a punch over a short distance to cause that kind of damage. She knew what she was looking for; now, she needed the data.

Calleigh was testing her third gun when the hair stood up on the back of her neck.

"Nice form."

She turned around and spied John Hagen leaning up against the door to the range.

"Hey," she greeted him.

John smirked at her. "But weak follow-through."

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with my follow-through, Detective," Calleigh quipped. "It's a speargun. It lacks tension and it doesn't have enough to make it through the gel block let alone the hull."

"Try something with more punch," he supplied back.

Calleigh rolled her eyes and gave a quick laugh. "How did I ever do my job before I met you?"

There was a levity to their exchange, but in the pit of her stomach, Calleigh was annoyed. John hovered in the background, always, and he always had a comment to make. Most of the time it was flirty and innocent, and she enjoyed it. Sometimes...sometimes, she felt he questioned her capabilities as a cop. Was he trying to protect her or was it something else?

'I don't need protecting,' was her flash mental reaction. She shoved that down, too.

"Okay," she said, pulling out the last speargun to test. "This one has an extra 120lbs of thrust. It's compact, but it fires like a rocket launcher."

Calleigh braced herself, settled her finger over the trigger, and pulled. The kickback forced her a step backward, but even as she winced, she was satisfied to see the projectile had solidly pierced the gel block.

"Oh…"

John quickly came forward to check the place where Calleigh rubbed her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it had a little bit of a kick to it," she said, surprised. Ballistics were her thing, and despite how small she was, getting knocked back by a weapon didn't happen too often.

"Ah but look at my gel block! Now that is a good shot."

John leaned down closer to her ear. "Not like it was on the run…"

There was one of those comments. If that's how Hagen liked to flirt, it was starting to wear on Calleigh.

"Hey, I will make you a deal," she said. "You stay out of my office; I'll stay out of yours."

"Okay," he replied, brushing her hair behind her shoulder, and bending lower to smell her neck.

Calleigh shifted away. "Hey, not at work."

She wasn't opposed to the idea of closeness with John. In fact, Cal yearned for intimacy and companionship more than usual lately. However, work was off-limits. She neither wanted to put her private life on display, nor advertise she was dating a fellow officer.

John groaned with the slightest disappointment then quickly rallied. "Aren't you done with your little experiment?"

That small annoyance returned, but Calleigh still managed humor in her voice as she put words to her earlier thoughts: "You know, diminishing my work as a CSI is not going to win any points with me."

"No, what will?" John asked in a sultry voice Calleigh recognized.

"Leaving," she said. "I have to run the numbers on the speargun."

"Okay, I'm gone," John relented.

She genuinely smiled at his reaction this time. He was kind of cute when he was contrite. "Good, get out."

Calleigh rubbed her shoulder and turned back to her work, trying to get back to the zone she'd been in before John interrupted.