Need a Miracle
Two
"What time is it?"
Eric rolls his eyes. "Cal, you asked me that like ten minutes ago."
"Well, I want to know again."
"Think about what time it was and add ten to that."
"No need to get snippy about it."
"I'm not," he argues. "Just don't ask me every ten to fifteen minutes what time it is. Besides, you have a watch on, don't you?"
"Yeah, but mine's always behind, I don't trust it."
He chuckles. "Right...of course you don't."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing."
It is going on seven o'clock, and for the most part, they've been sitting in silence. Eric has taken off his suit jacket, and Calleigh has kicked off her heels and taken off her blazer. She has on a pink button down blouse, and she has untucked it.
She sighs, suddenly deciding that her hair is too heavy for some reason, and she pulls it up, wraps it a few times, and pins it up with a pen in her purse.
In the dim light, she takes Eric in.
She's never forgotten how sinfully attractive and sexy he is, and she remembers just having stars in her eyes the first few weeks of their relationship, marveling at how he was hers. Eric, with his handsomeness was all hers and she liked that he didn't mind being owned. Of course she couldn't brand him like she wanted to, but she thinks she left enough of herself on him to let every other woman know that he was taken. Calleigh felt pride in knowing how much Eric wanted to be with her. She felt happy because after so many years of friendly flirting, and then finding a deeper bond together as friends and coworkers, she allowed herself to fall, to give him, give them the chance to take the opportunity set out before them.
Calleigh had been nervous when she figured out that he'd fallen in love with her.
Oh, she knows. Has known that Eric is deeply in love with her.
She would like to blame his affections on the fact that he'd had near death experiences, but, he seems stronger now, less emotionally dependent upon her. Even when he was, she felt her heart open up that much wider to let him in. She felt good around him; she could be a woman, she could be vulnerable, she could cry even and he'd be there, in those clandestine moments, to hold her, comfort her in ways that only he can.
Sure, Ryan, or Natalia, or Horatio can hug her, can whisper reassuring words, but it doesn't sink into her in the way that it does when Eric is the one holding her. He brings a certainty, a sureness to her that things are going to be alright that no other man could promise before.
She doesn't like comparing him to the other men that have been in her life, but it happens.
Eric is leaps and bounds a much better man than the others. He'd proven that just a little over an hour ago by stepping in front of her, protecting her and then making sure she didn't pass out from her panic attack.
Calleigh liked being with him, and he liked being with her.
The first time they made love is a memory that always nearly brings her to tears. From the moment they began their relationship, she wanted to, but he resisted her, which both touched her and pissed her off. Touched because Eric cared about her, and wanted to take things slowly, and pissed off because she wanted the man so, so badly. She couldn't wait, but he did, he made her, for a whole month. In that time, he occupied her with other things, like taking her to his parents' house, feeding her until she was too sleepy to do anything, playing chess with her, watching movies, which is her sleep aid, and taking her out.
She was happy, but her ravenous side was burning hot like lava, and she couldn't hardly wait for him to decide that they were ready.
Calleigh thinks they waited more for his security than hers.
When they finally did make love, it was...the most intimate experience she'd ever had in her entire dating life. She'd never felt so peaceful and content while making love before, not even when she was young and experiencing love for the first time. Eric was gentle, aware, exploring, learning her and what she liked. It was intense, slow, passionate and perfect. Everything was perfect; the lovemaking, the togetherness, being a couple, sharing everything...it was getting better and better each day.
Then it all just...stopped.
Then it started up again, and the second time, there was no waiting.
When Eric came back to work for the defense on the Sheffield case, she felt that familiar flame light up inside her. Courtesies, talking, and awkwardness be damned, she went over to his condo, and there were no questions asked, nothing said at all, actually. All that happened, several times that night, was the kind of sex that left them both overheated, hypersensitive, and more wild and hungry for each other than ever before.
And things were good again, great, exciting and better, than the first time.
Them not working together had much to do with it. They no longer had to hide their relationship, and it was good, so good. Things felt normal, and they were happy again, until he was brought back into the fold by the case that changed everything between them again.
Calleigh admits that she went too long without telling him how she really felt. She was thinking about every aspect of their relationship, she was thinking about Eric and how he would feel, she was thinking...always thinking.
"Your parents are probably wondering where you are."
Eric nods. "Yeah...unless they think I just blew them off. They knew I had to work today."
"Right," she sighs.
They lapse into silence again.
Eric watches as Calleigh begins to inspect her cuticles with little interest. It is then that he begins to think about the things she does that bug him.
He hates the way she drives, for one thing. Perhaps if she drove moderately, like Natalia or Walter, they would have just missed the disgruntled bank managers who locked their asses in this vault in the first place.
He immediately realizes that wasn't fair. Anything can happen at anytime, regardless of himself or Calleigh. If not being stuck in a vault, it would be something else tonight.
Locked.
In a vault.
With Calleigh.
If this isn't a fluke, then he doesn't know what else deserves the name.
His parents are probably calling his phone, leaving messages, telling him to call back.
He sighs.
He'd been looking forward to spending Christmas with his family...
"I should've bought presents for everyone earlier in the week," he laments out loud, and Calleigh looks at him.
"Why?"
"I wouldn't have had to stop at the bank today," he chuckles.
Calleigh doesn't see the humor in it.
"You've always been a procrastinator," she says matter-of-fact.
She is right about that.
Eric kept thinking I have time, I have time, and then this morning, he realized that he still hadn't gone to get his nieces and nephews Christmas gifts, nor anything for his parents or his sisters. He already had in mind what he was going to get for everyone, it's just he hadn't yet gone to get them. His habit contributed to this mess they are in now, but he is thankful to God for the fact that Montell and Kyle had enough heart not to maim them in any way. The money was their focus, and he figures that by now, they are probably trying to get out of Florida, maybe toward Cuba way and then from there, disappear. Or, they've split the money in half and gone their separate ways.
That is a more likely scenario.
He watches as Calleigh rummages through her purse.
"What are you looking for?"
"iPod."
"Oh, that'll lighten the mood a little," he grins with hope. "Is it in there?"
"I don't know, I'm looking," she snaps.
She is irritated, in a bad mood.
The last thing she'd wanted was to be stuck in a vault on Christmas. She had planned on going home, soaking in her tub with a glass of wine and popping those Grandine truffles she loves and spent a pretty penny for so that it would get to her just in time. She had it all laid out in her head: aromatherapy candles, some Merlot, music, lovely bubbles, the spa jets going, and those scrumptious chocolates melting in her mouth. Perfect.
She feels the burn of anger in her cheeks as she searches for her iPod.
They need something to keep the silence from driving them both mad.
Oh, the tension is thick, despite their cordiality.
She hasn't been alone with him in months, and she has no idea what to do, or say, except small talk.
She finally finds it.
"Got it."
"Great."
She turns it on, and turns the volume up loud so that they both can hear it.
Teenage Dream begins playing, and Eric laughs.
"I never took you for a Katy Perry fan."
She shrugs. "I'm not, I just like a couple of her songs. It's on Genius."
"Oh. How many Genius playlists do you have?"
"Lots," she shrugs. "I don't know how many. I made them to listen to while I'm running."
He nods. "I do the same thing."
"I know," she smirks. "I still can't believe you like the Beatles and the Rolling Stones."
"How can you not like them?" He asks with a smile. "They're legends...musical geniuses. My dad's a Stones fan, too."
Calleigh shakes her head, giggling.
Eric and his father are two peas in a pod. They have a great relationship, and together, the two of them are funny, loving, and wise. Pavel Delektorsky loves his son, because no matter what DNA says, he is Eric's father, no question.
When she first met his parents some years ago, Calleigh thought briefly that she should learn Russian because Eric and his sisters are fluent, and when she came back into their lives as Eric's girlfriend, they switched from speaking Spanish around her to speaking Russian. It confused her, threw her, and made her nervous. She couldn't understand a word, but she could understand facial expressions. She doesn't care what Eric says, his sisters Teresa and Nina can't stand her. For some reason, they think she's bad news, and it's clear that they dislike her because they always direct Russian phrases that don't sound kosher at her.
"What about your mom?"
Eric chuckles. "Selena and Michael Jackson."
"Michael Jackson?"
"Yep."
"Oh my God," Calleigh laughs. "I just totally got a mental image of your mom dancing to Michael Jackson."
"Hey, my mom's got some moves," Eric informs her. "I learned how to dance from her. My dad's hopeless."
She tilts her head to the side.
"You never did tell me how the talk with your parents went," she begins. "You know...after you found out about Sharova."
His jaw clenches, and she regrets bringing it up, but she wants to know because that is the one thing he absolutely refused to talk to her about. She respected that, because it was a family matter, and between him and his parents. She didn't need to know the details, but now she wants to know. It boggled her that he carried no anger, or bitterness against his family for lying to him his entire life. In fact, he was humbled by it, and he saw possibilities with Sharova that she couldn't. Eric didn't pull away from his family, but it certainly was a hot topic whenever they went over for dinner, and she would always politely bow out to give them privacy.
They spoke in Russian, the language that marginalizes her even further in his family. His family is open minded, they don't care that she's this blonde haired Southern Belle, but it's hard for her to fit in like she wants to sometimes because she has no frame of reference to the intricacies of their culture and their family.
Eric's family life always seemed ideal to her; that is, until he found that he was the result of infidelity on his mother's part.
He sighs. "That's private, you know that, Cal."
"I know, but...after everything we've been through...with a lot of it having to do with Sharova the first time...I want to know. It hurt me when you wouldn't...talk to me about it."
"I guess turnabout's fair play," he says. "The last few months, you haven't talked to me at all about anything."
She frowns at him. "Oh no, don't even start that shit, Eric."
"Calleigh, I'm not a damned mind reader," he argues. "Getting you to talk to me was next to impossible! You're harder to break open than frickin' safe and-"
"That is not true, and you know it-"
"If it's not true then why did you blindside me with that 'let's take a break and be friends' bullshit, huh?"
"I didn't blindside you," she hisses. "You're being a real asshole right now. You know damned well that it was a mutual decision."
Eric rolls his eyes. "Mutual my ass. It had to be mutual because you just came right out with it one morning. No warning, no explanation, not even one damned excuse."
"Dammit Eric!" She yells, feeling the sting of tears. She refuses to give this man the satisfaction of crying. "All I did was ask you about you and your parents and you berate me for it! If this is how you're going to talk to me all damn night, then I prefer we don't talk at all! I will not sit here in this damn vault and let you talk to me like that. No...it's not gonna happen."
Eric snorts. "Oh really? Where're you gonna go, huh?"
He shouldn't have been so cocky, because before he can blink, something moderately hard, cold, and medium sized hits his head, followed by:
"Screw you! Asshole!"
"OW! Calleigh!"
"Don't talk to me!"
"Ah! What did you throw at me?" He asks, picking up the object.
Her planner.
He slides it back over to her.
"Leave me the hell alone," she growls, before she turns down her iPod and puts the earbuds in, drawing her knees up to her chest.
"Glad to," he says bitterly.
Eric combs his fingers through his hair before he rests his head back against the wall of safe deposit boxes.
It feels warm in the vault, despite the air flowing into it, and he realizes that it is heat from his ever boiling anger that he's been repressing for months.
He looks over at Calleigh, who has her head rested on her knees. Though he's furious at her, he knows that he's hurt her, that he got through to her heart. He knows this position; she's completely shut down right now, and it is best just to give her space in this small vault. He most certainly doesn't want to experience any more wrath from the Southern woman. If she had no qualms about chucking a planner at his head, God only knows what she'll grab next from that cavernous purse of hers.
He's glad she isn't armed.
Eric sighs.
Calleigh shuts down, blocks out too easily of late. She's been almost...depressed, but in a functional way. She loves being out in the field, and for her to go so long not being in the field worries him. There wasn't enough paperwork in the entire department that could keep her from going out in the field, pounding the pavement, or arresting perps...that changed a few months ago, and since then, she's just been...working until clock out, then going home and doing God only knows what. The brightness in her eyes is gone. She can smile that brilliant little smile, but the spirit that made it beautiful wasn't there.
She's retreating, she's old Calleigh.
The Calleigh of a few years ago that avoided him, that wasn't playful, that was focused solely on work, and cerebral. She barely laughed, didn't cry, she was even cold at times.
And he thinks that's when he began to become interested in her romantically, because she made it clear to him and any other man that tried to squeeze his way into her life, that she was unattainable. She was just some hazy fantasy, not tangible. She didn't want to belong to anyone.
Calleigh didn't want to belong to him.
Now that hurts.
Eric looks at her again, and she hasn't moved, not a millimeter, and he hates himself and his selfish pride. Now he will have to work that much harder to get her to tell him why.
I love you like family.
He needs to know why.
Why did she tell him that?
Why did she close up? Why did she stop...everything?
Eric wants answers, he wants hope, he wants...her.
He loves her.
Eric knows that it'll take something short of a miracle to get Calleigh to tell him the truth.