Date Chatper Written: June 04, 2008
Author: marymagdalen
Beta'd by: Adorelo
Three Elements to include:
1. Broken glass
2. An inappropriate comment
3. Calleigh laughing at someone/something

OK, here's Chapter 3. Please let me know what you think. And in case you're wondering, the title - One More Cup of Coffee - is a Bob Dylan song. Enjoy.
Leni


Chapter Three: One More Cup of Coffee


Eric woke with a start and a loud grunt as Calleigh's elbow made contact sharply with his upper arm. He sat up rubbing the place where a bruise was probably already forming, and looked around the room, feeling somewhat embarrassed by the censorious looks that he was getting from some of the other conference delegates. Calleigh was sitting beside him trying not to burst into a fit of giggles.

He scribbled on his notepad and angled it so that Calleigh could read it. She had got so used to Eric's scrawling handwriting that she had no trouble deciphering the message: I am sooo bored! She took the pad from his hand and wrote in her own small, neat hand: I noticed. You were SNORING! She handed the pad back to Eric, and he laughed at the note, drawing more disapproving glances from their neighbours.

Eventually, after what seemed like hours, the lecture ended, and the Miami CSI's made their escape.

"Oh, thank God for that!" Calleigh sighed, lifting her face to the warm sunshine, and closing her eyes against the mid-morning glare. "I thought he was never going to let up!"

The combination of a long journey, a sleepless night and a one-and-a-half-hour long keynote speech was never going to make for the most stimulating start to a conference. And it had been a particularly tedious keynote speech. The subject itself was interesting - anthropological criminology, and the relationship between criminality and social background; the trouble was the speaker.

Dr. Aubrey Pender was a Professor in criminal psychology at Oxford University, England; and while he may well have been one of the most eminent scientists on the planet, he was possibly also one of the most monotone, dull scientists they had ever come across - and Eric and Calleigh had both met some pretty mind-numbing scientists! While most of the audience had sat through his speech enthralled, hanging upon the great man's every word, it was all the two tired CSI's could do to keep their eyes open and their minds on the job in hand.

Eric sat down beside her on the low wall that ran along the front of the conference building. They sat together for a few minutes enjoying the sunshine until Calleigh broke the silence between them. "Oh God, I need some coffee," she said with a sigh. "What's next on the programme? You think anyone'll notice if we play hooky?"

"Well," Eric began, unfolding a crumpled piece of paper and perusing it, "there's a couple of seminars running, but I didn't sign us up for them. I didn't think you'd be interested in bug DNA." He smiled as Calleigh shuddered; he was quite well aware of her dislike of all things creepy-crawly. "Or Forensic Pal... Pale... o-graph-y."

"What the hell's that?" Calleigh looked as bemused as Eric.

"Exactly! Let's go find a decent cup of coffee. We can be back in time for lunch at one."

/-/-/

"You want decent coffee?" The waitress placed two steaming cups of coffee on the table. "You got decent coffee!" She remained by the table, her now empty tray balanced on one hand, her other hand on her hip, and the look she gave them challenged them to taste her offering and dare to say otherwise.

It certainly smelled good. Eric was first to pick up his cup and sip the rich, strong drink as Calleigh watched him keenly, her eyebrows raised in an unspoken question. Eric's face lit up and his mouth broke into a wide grin.

"Now that is a decent cup of coffee!"

The waitress gave them both an 'I told you so' look, and tapped the table with her fingertips. It was the best cup of coffee in Quantico, and she knew it - as did all her customers. Her tone of voice implied sheer stupidity on their part for doubting it. "Damn right it's a decent cup of coffee!" And with that she turned and walked away to serve another customer.

A couple of brightly coloured tourist brochures were propped between the salt and pepper shakers on the table. Eric and Calleigh took one each, and perused the sights of Quantico and the surrounding area while enjoying their coffee.

They read in silence until... "'Chop-a-wam-sic Creek'! What kind of a name is that?" Eric muttered to himself as he skimmed the brochure's bulleted headings.

"It's from an old Algonquian language," Calleigh replied without looking up. "It means 'isolated lodge'."

Eric stared at his companion in disbelief. How the hell would she know something like that? Calleigh wondered whether she ought to tell him that it was written further down the page if he only looked, but decided with a private smile that it wouldn't do any harm at all to let him think instead that she really did know everything!

"I wonder if we'll have time to visit the National Cemetery," she wondered out loud.

"You want to visit Lowery's grave?" Eric was surprised that she would be bothered about such a thing.

"Lowery who?"

Now it was Eric's turn to be a smart ass! "Louis Lowery - the guy who photographed the flag-raising at Iwo Jima. Don't tell me you never heard of him?"

"No, it's just that my momma told me once that my great-great-uncle something is mentioned on a memorial there. I thought it might be fun to go find it."

"Fun? In a cemetery?" Eric laughed.

With a sigh, Calleigh put down the brochure, and leaned her elbows on the table between them. "You know, I feel bad about this," Calleigh said with a frown. At Eric's quizzical glance she continued, "Sitting here drinking coffee and looking at tourist brochures. I mean, we've only been here half a day, and we're ducking out already!"

"We've got a seminar later this afternoon, and a lecture this evening - and we're going to need to be well awake for that; it's the one Horatio wants us to take notes on."

"Oh, is that tonight? The one about computer forensics and standards of evidence admissible in a court of law?"

How does she do that? Eric wondered. Remembering things like that! I have trouble remembering what day of the week it is - but I guess a bullet in the brain will do that to you!

"Yeah, that's the one," he said with a smile. "He wants us to write a report on it. I guess that'll give us something to do on the plane home."

Calleigh smiled into her cup as she raised it to her lips. "If it stops you singing at the other passengers, I'll do anything!" And she took another drink of coffee. Putting down her cup, she continued, "No, but I was thinking, we really ought to make the most of our time here – brush up on some stuff, you know."

She was remembering Horatio's words to her in the break room before they left, encouraging her to help Eric get to grips once again with some of the things he'd lost after the shooting - a refresher course, he'd called it. Well, Horatio, I'm doin' my best, she thought.

Eric's face darkened and he frowned at his colleague. Calleigh felt her face flush, and she knew that, despite her trying to put on a casual air, Eric suspected her ulterior motives. He was remembering again last week's conversation.

Before he could say anything, Calleigh spoke again. "I just think we should try and get to as many sessions as we can and cover as much as we can while we have the opportunity, whether it's remembering or... re-learning." She chose the word carefully. "That's why Horatio sent us here, after all - so that we can both go back even better at our jobs."

"I guess so," Eric said with a sigh. He really didn't want to get into the whole discussion again, not right now. And he knew that Calleigh was right. "I tell you what, let's get back for lunch, then go to my room and take a good look at the programme, and sign up for some more seminars, OK?"

A dangerous thing, Delko, inviting her to your room! At least last night there was plywood and wallpaper between you. Eric could feel his neck glowing warm as he realised what he had just suggested.

Damn these butterflies! You're supposed to have this under control, Calleigh. You know how things are - you work together, and this is definitely work, nothing more. She noticed the flush of pink that had formed on Eric's neck, and felt her own cheeks begin to warm. She hid behind her cup, drinking the last mouthfuls of her second cup of coffee. Once she had calmed herself, she answered him saying, "it couldn't do any harm."

Well, they both knew that wasn't strictly true.

/-/-/

"That was a good lunch," Calleigh said as they got up to leave the dining room.

Eric laughed. "Yeah, at least the buffet hasn't been sitting around for two days like the coffee!"

"Eric!" Calleigh scolded. A member of staff was standing nearby and had overheard Eric's comment; she glared in his direction, not looking at all pleased at his criticism.

They headed up to Eric's room in the elevator to take a look at the programme for the rest of the conference.

"Oh, I don't know," Calleigh groaned, feeling exasperated. "There are a couple of seminars I really ought to go to, and none that I want to go to! And I really don't want to sit through another hour of Dr. Pender!"

She picked up a pen from the nightstand and took a deep breath. "OK," she began in a decisive tone. "I'm going to sign us up for... this one," she drew a circle around a heading on the programme, "this one," another circle, "and these two." She drew the final two circles with a flourish and tossed the pen back on the nightstand. "OK?"

Eric smiled, knowing by now that he had little choice in the matter once Ms. Duquesne had made up her mind. "Yes, ma'am!"

She got up from her seat on the edge of Eric's bed and headed for the bathroom. Eric remained where he was, seated on the other side of the bed, poring over the programme. He was concentrating hard, reading the mini-biography of the woman who would be leading that afternoon's session on the crime scene sketching device that he had signed them up for, when a loud crash from the bathroom made him jump.

"Calleigh?" he called, jumping to his feet and crossing the room in two strides. "Calleigh? Are you OK?"

The bathroom door opened, and Calleigh appeared, looking cross, and sucking the middle finger of her left hand.

"What did you do?" Eric asked. He took her hand, pulling her finger from her mouth as he did so, and inspected the cut that was still dripping blood. "It's not too deep. I don't think it'll need stitching."

There was silence between them for a moment. They were standing close, each barely breathing, their eyes locked.

"Eric," Calleigh breathed, barely a murmur.

Eric let out the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. "I think you'll survive!" He realized he was still holding Calleigh's hand, and with an embarrassed smile he comically stuck her bleeding finger back in her mouth, making her laugh too.

The tension broken, he asked again, "So what did you do?"

"Oh, I was straightening my hair in the mirror and knocked the glass off the shelf. It fell in the basin and smashed. I was trying to pick up the pieces when one of them got me." She took the finger out of her mouth again; it had just about stopped bleeding. Great! she thought; first my toe, and now my finger.

"I think I have a Band Aid in my room." She glanced at her watch as she picked up her purse. "And then we'd better get going. The seminar starts in ten minutes."


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Next Chapter Post Date: 02/07/08