Chapter 7: Eric

Both you and Calleigh are deep in thought all the way back out the park. You hate that only time will tell how this story will play out. You hate that your heart bursts of hope, and you know that you are not ready for a second heartbreak. Your old wounds still seem so fresh. You wonder if heartache is a legitimate cause of death and if Alexx has the tools to figure that out if you're ever on her table.

Calleigh pivots so suddenly that you nearly walk into her. She seems a little taken aback by how close you are.

"I need to go back to the hotel for a few minutes," she tells you. "To freshen up. Pick up a few things."

You nod. "Okay," you reply, as calmly as you can muster, even though mention of the hotel has you fighting the image of her naked body pressed against yours in the hotel room bed.

Twenty minutes and a taxi ride later, you're still wondering how to avoid touching her when you reach the room. You know fully well that a fresh start does not mean you start where you left off, but your body is fighting the temptation to test how well she'd react to that.

She solves your dilemma for you when she stops you in the lobby. "You can wait for me here. I'll just be a minute." She smiles, and you are glad one of you can still think straight. You consider that she might be afraid of the same uncontrollable urges, but you dismiss that thought immediately, because Calleigh always has control.

As soon as she leaves, your phone rings. Caller ID says Ryan Wolfe again. You bring the phone to your ear.

"What's up?"

"Hey, Delko." The voice at the other end is cautious. Ryan clears his throat. "You guys aren't, uh, busy or anything right now, are you?"

"No," you say with an embarrassed laugh, "she's not even here right now."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," you reply in exasperation. "She's upstairs in the hotel room. I'm waiting for her in the lobby."

"You guys got a hotel room together?!" he asks, thoroughly spooked. "Nice going, man. Way to be respectful and take it slow."

"Nothing happened. Nothing, okay?" You sigh in disbelief. "Nothing happened this morning, nothing's happening now, and nothing will happen tonight if I have a say in it." The last one doesn't convince you.

He mirrors your doubt. "Right."

"We're adults, Wolfe, and we aren't even sleeping next to each other. I think we can handle it," you rationalize.

"I'm just saying, how long's it been now? Four years?" He pauses. "Four years is a heck of a long time. Since you did this for her and she didn't throw up in your face, that tells me that both of you still want this to work. If you want my two cents—"

"I don't," you interrupt quickly.

"Okay, well, I'm giving it anyway." He ignores your groan and continues. "I'm not sure this is such a good idea, Delko."

The possibility of this having a bad ending is a sensitive topic with you. "Why are you calling anyway?" you snap crossly.

He sighs. "I'm glad my advice is appreciated," he remarks sarcastically.

You run your fingers through your hair. "I'm dying when I'm not with her, Wolfe," you admit quietly.

His voice softens. "I know," he replies, "but you'd die faster if she hurts you a second time."

"I can't not take this chance," you say with a shake of the head. "I have to just go for it or I'll spend the rest of my life wondering if I should've."

"And if it doesn't work out?" he asks pointedly. "You'll spend the rest of your life wondering what you could've done differently."

"So I'll make it work," you reply stubbornly.

He sighs. "Not everything works like that. I'm just trying to be rational." You can almost see him shrugging. "Look, Delko. I didn't know Calleigh as well as you did, but I know this: she's not easy. You know what I mean. This won't be easy."

You take a deep breath in. "I know. I just—" You exhale. "I just feel like we can do this."

"Okay." He pauses, and his voice softens. "It doesn't sound like it, but I'm rooting for you."

"Thanks, Wolfe."

You only realize that you have been staring expectantly at the elevator door when you see Calleigh walking out of it and approaching you. You swallow, wondering if she knows what she can do to you.

Calleigh stops in front of you and smiles. She is standing a little closer than she had allowed herself earlier, so you take this as a sign that things are finally looking up.

"Who is it?" she mouths, pointing to your phone. You give her a quizzed look. "On the phone," she clarifies.

You smile sheepishly, only then hearing Ryan's voice in your ear again. You're not sure what he's blabbing about, but you interrupt.

"Wolfe, listen," you say with a short laugh. "I have no idea what you're talking about, but Calleigh's here."

"Is that my cue to hang up?" he asks dryly.

"No, what are you—" You shake your head disbelievingly, shooting Calleigh a look that tells her Ryan's overactive imagination is at work again. "Anyway, you want to talk to her?"

"To both of you, actually. Put me on speakerphone." You hold the phone in the air between your bodies and press the speaker button. Ryan's voice comes out loud and clear for all to hear. "Unless you guys are, you know."

Calleigh laughs to hide her embarrassment. "Unless we're what, Ryan?" she asks innocently.

"Oh!" Ryan sounds surprised to hear Calleigh's voice. "Speakerphone's already on," he notes.

"Yeah, nice observation, captain obvious," you say sarcastically. Calleigh laughs softly at your lame joke. You smile slightly at her and turn your attention back to the phone in your hand. "Now let's hear it. What did you have to tell us?"

"I, uh—" He clears his throat. "I think Horatio knows why you're not at work today."

Calleigh looks at you questioningly, but you return her confusion. "What makes you think that?" you ask.

"He got a phone call this morning. When he hung up, he had this sour look on his face." Ryan says this as if it were the most genius thing he's ever said.

"Okay, Wolfe," you say with a short laugh, "he gets phone calls all the time."

Calleigh rests her hand on your arm and smiles. "And if I remember him correctly, he always has this sour look on his face," she supplies.

"Very funny, guys," Ryan retorts sarcastically. "Anyway, then, even more suspiciously, he got a strange report that he wouldn't show anyone else. Next, Valera overheard him calling Cooper and she says it sounded like he was grilling him about you. About five minutes ago, he asked me if I knew why you were taking the day off or where you were."

You frown, and Calleigh gives you another look. "What did you say?" she asks.

"I said no, because I really don't know where, and I didn't really think it was his business why. He didn't look convinced though." He pauses. "You should call him before he figures everything out, if he hasn't already."

"Yeah, yeah, I think I will," you say, a little distracted by Calleigh's hand, still on your arm. "Thanks."

"No problem," Ryan replies. "Hey, listen, I have to get back to this case I'm working on. We're being a little overworked today since somebody didn't show up." He sounds irritated, and you don't think he has any right to be.

You have to take a breath to keep yourself from yelling at him. Calleigh picks up on your tense stance, because she squeezes your arm. "Bye, Ryan," she says quickly, attempting to avoid a fight. Before you can react, she grabs the phone from you and closes it. She slips it back into your pocket; her hand grazes your hip and you have to look away and swallow.

"I wasn't going to pick a fight," you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

She looks unconvinced. "Okay," she replies with a knowing smile.

You frown. "I wasn't!"

"I know," she says with a nod. You follow her gaze to her hand, still resting on your arm. She pulls it away. You want to tell her that she can put it back, but you don't want to make it more awkward than it has already become. "Call Horatio," she suggests softly.

You take the phone back out of your pocket, tracing the location where her hand had passed just moments before. Calleigh watches your every move. You pause, sighing, and she gives you a questioning look.

"It's just…" You inhale slowly. "I never knew H really told you he would fire one of us if we pursued a relationship."

She nods. "It's not his fault, though. I probably would've left anyway," she admits apprehensively.

Suppressing the disappointment, you bring the phone to your ear. After a few rings, Horatio's composed voice comes across the line.

"Eric, hi, how can I help you?" His calmness makes you slightly nervous.

You release the breath you hadn't realized you had been holding. "Hey, H, I was just calling to make sure Cooper told you I needed the day off." You contemplate adding 'family emergency,' but you're not sure how much he knows, and you are not about to jeopardize your chances of getting out of this situation unscathed even further.

"It's a little late for courtesy calls, isn't it?"

You curse how difficult it is to read Horatio's tone. "Look, H, I'm sorry." You decide to go with another carefully vague statement. "I just got caught up with something."

"Or someone." Shit. The look on your face must have been very obvious, because Calleigh appears to catch on. She returns her hand to your arm. You search for a justification to offer Horatio, but Calleigh's closeness is distracting. Horatio clears his throat. "Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

Unable to come up with a lie and knowing that Horatio would see through whatever you manage to come up with, you go with what you know. "I'm with Calleigh," you admit quietly. You sound like a little boy who has been caught throwing paper airplanes behind the teacher's back. At the mention of her name, Calleigh runs her hand up and down your arm. Your breath hitches, but thankfully, she doesn't notice.

Horatio chuckles slightly. "I know that, and Eric, I would have appreciated a heads up."

"Yeah, next time, definitely," you promise, nodding.

"Let's make it so there isn't a next time," he says vaguely. He senses your confusion and clarifies, "Do it right and bring her home."

You frown, a little taken aback by his words. After all, wasn't this the same man who threatened Calleigh that certain lines were never to be crossed? Did this mean that sometime in the past four years, Horatio had had a change of heart? What did this mean for you and Calleigh, once you've returned to Miami?

Horatio interrupts your thoughts. "Um, Eric? How is she?"

"She cut her hair," you blurt out. You hear Calleigh's soft laugh.

Horatio chuckles. "Okay, well, I'll take that as a 'good.'"

"Yeah, she looks great," you say, turning to look at Calleigh again. She smiles and rests her free hand on your hip. Judging that move to be too intimate, she removes it immediately, but the remains of her palm print burns.

"Eric, there's just one more thing," Horatio says, his voice meaning business.

"Shoot."

"I have a report here that says someone used a Miami-Dade police badge to coerce flight information from an airport employee at Raleigh-Durham international." He pauses to judge your reaction; you are sure Horatio Caine is trained in the recognition of breathing patterns. "Do you know anything about that?"

You swallow. "I—"

"Regardless," he interrupts, "it'll be hard to play around those security tapes and this young lady's account, especially since she's given such a detailed description of the suspect."

You sigh, running your fingers through your hair. "What should I do?" you ask, your voice betraying your nervousness.

"Leave it to me, Eric. I'll do my best to protect you and Calleigh," he pledges sincerely.

You tense when Calleigh's name is mentioned. "Wait, what does Calleigh have to do with this?" you ask, your brows furrowing. Calleigh searches your eyes for clues, but you look away.

"Calleigh has everything to do with this." He pauses. "It seems that in order to get this information, the suspect implied that Calleigh was involved in some terrorist activity." You curse yourself for being so stupid. "Her name has been flagged in all international airports, so stay on the ground."

"We—" Not wanting him to get the same idea as Ryan had, you backtrack. "She has a hotel room under her name."

Horatio considers this for a moment. "Okay, uh, have you eaten lunch yet?"

"No," you reply, unsure why that's relevant.

"Here's what you're going to do." You can almost see him standing in the middle of the lab with his hand on his hip. "Check out as soon as possible. Go eat something, then hop on the first Greyhound headed due south. This will be a lot less messy if we do not have North Carolina officials getting involved."

"IAB's going to love this," you mumble.

"Don't worry about that now, okay, Eric?"

"Yeah, alright, thanks H," you say, grateful that he's willing to cover for you yet again.

"Okay, keep me posted."

"I will."

"Say hi to Calleigh for me."

Slipping the phone back into your pant pocket, you look guiltily at Calleigh.

She searches your eyes. "What's going on?"

"I, um—" You smile guiltily. "H says hi," you stall.

"Eric," she warns.

"Okay, your passport's been flagged," you say, exhaling.

She makes a confused face. "How'd that happen?"

"Well, I kind of insinuated that you were up to no good at the airport," you say slowly.

She gives you a confused look. "I don't und—"

"I was looking for you," you interrupt, speaking a little too loudly. You lower your voice. "I thought you had boarded another plane and I panicked. The airport girl was asking too many questions and time was running out." You take a deep breath and grab her hands. "I didn't want to lose you," you finish quietly.

"I don't know what you just said, but it's pretty hard to argue with that point," she replies softly with a small smile.

"I can probably explain better later," you offer and she nods in understanding.

"H thinks we should grab a quick lunch and then catch a bus back to Miami." You study her reaction. You know as much as she does what it means if she were to return to Miami. Raleigh is safe; anywhere but southern Florida is controlled territory. For a moment, you're worried you've scared her back into her shell again. When she doesn't offer any reaction, you attempt to cover up. "We don't have to. It was just an idea," you say with a dismissive shrug. "It's up to you."

She watches you struggle with your words, then carefully formulates her own. "Well, I haven't known Horatio to ever have been wrong before," she says slowly, as if testing her decision.

You nod, trying to forget the complications of bringing her back to Miami. "If you're sure."

"I was supposed to make it there by myself," she points out. She hesitates for a moment and you feel her tension through your intertwined fingers. She leans toward you and rests her cheek on your chest, the top of her head nestled under your chin. Instinctively, your hands release hers and find their way to the small of her back, pulling her closer carefully. Her arms snake around your midsection; her grip on your body is firm but gentle, just the way you remember it. You fight the shiver that threatens to run down your body. You can't fight the same shiver, however, when she whispers a handful of loaded words, her jaw moving against your chest.

"Take me home, Eric."

Unable to form a coherent reply, you press a soft kiss against her forehead. The feel of her skin under your lips rushes blood to your head and your heartbeat quickens. She tenses slightly in your arms at the gesture, but doesn't protest.

When you finally recover your voice, you say the first thing that comes to mind. "Do you want lunch?" Not eloquent, but it breaks the silence.

She pulls away reluctantly and you ache immediately for her warmth. You wonder how long it will be until she no longer has this effect on you. You hope never.

"Let's grab some fast food and catch an earlier bus," she murmurs.

Her suggestion surprises you a little, but as long as she's not hiding anymore, you'll take every positive sign she offers. In the middle of the lonely hotel lobby, your voices handfuls of decibels under what the nosy receptionist can make out, your heart soars, beating anxiously in your chest cavity.