A/N: Sorry it took so long! I've been writing this for a couple of weeks, but I just realized it was well over 8000 words long, and I couldn't do that to one chapter, so I'm going to break it down into two, maybe three, depending on how detailed and in depth I get. Enjoy and please, no throwing of objects!
***
Eric left Dr. Andrews' office not feeling better than he had when he first entered, something unusual since his first few sessions with the psychologist. The sudden clarity of the gut-wrenching realization that Calleigh could never be his, would never be his, felt like a punch to the gut. He'd never really allowed himself to think of her that way, well, not much. Before the shooting, she'd just been Calleigh, his friend and co-worker, sometime pool-playing buddy, catching a flick or two, but never anything serious. Never anything that made him think that they could get serious. She was his friend and she'd drawn a line early on in their relationship, such that he'd never felt the need to push it. Since the shooting, Eric had found himself watching her, mesmerized by her laugh, her piercingly, achingly warm gaze, the sweet smile, goofy sense of humor…everything that made her Calleigh. And now, he felt an ever-increasing need to not just cross that invisible line, but fucking demolish it. His fists clenched involuntarily at the thought, of just taking what he wanted. Or at least, trying to, he thought wryly. More likely, he'd have sore balls for his trouble.
But even as he wanted, needed, wished, Eric knew what he desired, craved, would not-could not be. Calleigh was with Jake and that was one line Eric couldn't make himself cross. His mother had taught him right. He remembered the lecture when he was 16 and fancied himself in love with Marguerite, the girlfriend of one of his then-best friends. Eric, m'ijo, you will not violate that trust. Samuel is your best friend and no matter that you think you're in love with Maggie, you will not act on it. Betraying that trust will destroy you. And not just you and Samuel. Maggie too. A sense of trust has been built between you and you cannot violate that even for a minute. It is not your place to interfere. Let it be Maggie's decision on whether she wishes to break it off with Samuel and begin anew with you. A relationship is built on trust and if you were to intercede while she and Sam were still together, it would not bode well for any relationship you developed with her in the future.
Eric had taken that advice to heart and had never started something with a girl or woman who he knew was in a relationship, no matter how 'open' she purported it to be. All he could do now was step back, let Calleigh make her choice, even though she wasn't aware of his affections, and try to get on with his life. Though he felt not in the mood, Eric decided to go out that night, after shift. Get out there, try to have some fun. Maybe he couldn't forget about Calleigh, but he could try to dull the pain a bit. The rest of his 12 hour shift was spent completing paperwork, the backlog of it he had in his inbox. Eric knew he couldn't concentrate enough to actually process evidence and it would kill him if something he processed was used to get a criminal out, instead of in, prison.
When Eric went into the locker room to hang up his lab coat and get his bag, his eyes couldn't help but wander over to Calleigh's locker, already closed. A quick glance at the board told him she was off already, having taken a couple of hours leave. His stomach clenched a little in some emotion Eric didn't want to give a name to. He had no right to feel like this. She wasn't his to worry about. Or to care about. But she could be. That little voice, a whisper of his feelings, was silenced abruptly, consciously. That was one road he couldn't go down or Eric might find himself ignoring his mother's advice, a grievous offense in his family. Shaking himself mentally, Eric moved on with the business of packing up and walked out Miami-Dade. As he made his way through the employee parking lot, Eric caught sight of Calleigh getting out of Jake's car, wearing a pretty blue summer dress with stringy straps, hair upswept in curls about her head. "Hey, Cal. Forget something?" he teased, walking over. His feet carried him, even though his mind protested. As if he needed any more torture. Calleigh in work clothes was amazing, but Calleigh in play clothes, dressed to go out for a night on the town….Pure devastation.
A rueful smile graced her sunshine face and she nodded, "I swear, if my head weren't attached…just left my creds inside my locker."
Eric shook his head in silent laughter and looked down, but that was about as dangerous as looking at her face. Calleigh's dress reached a couple of inches above her knees and the woman had legs that went on for days. Ears burning, Eric's gaze flitted back up, barely allowing himself a glance at the dress' modest but still sexy bust line. Even so, it was like a punch in the gut. The desire to each out, touch, hold, kiss, was so strong, Eric had to take a step back, get some breathing space before he did something he wouldn't regret. Her diamond earrings winked at him from under the delicate curls that framed her face and Eric had an intense and immediate desire to lean over and nibble that soft flesh. The image was so vivid in his mind, he could see himself doing it, leaning in, a soft stroke against the lobe to tease both of them, a slow and soft suckle, gentle nip, maybe not so gentle with the way he was feeling, move down that succulent skin, down the graceful curve of her neck and just take small bites out of her. Eric had to bite off a moan and took a few more steps back, but they were baby steps. He didn't want to get too far away. His body had responded to his desire and had sent blood rushing south, tightening the front of his slacks in mere moments. Vertigo overtook him for a second and he thought, as corny as it sounded, he was going to faint from the desire to have her.
Calleigh saw the look in his eyes and instantly, shamefully, her body responded to his desire. Her nipples pressed against the soft silky fabric, which had felt buttery soft, but now felt like the roughest wool against her sensitized skin. His focus appeared to be on her neck and that patch of flesh responded too, so much so she could almost feel his lips there, the stroke of his tongue, the bite and scrap of teeth. A shiver overtook her and she almost reached out, almost. But then a horn honked behind her and made Calleigh jump. The moment was broken and both appeared slightly dazed, if attempting to hide it. "Well, I better get going. Have a good night, Eric," Calleigh said brightly, if a little distracted by the erection gracing his pants. Eric couldn't say anything, but he watched as Calleigh turned back to Jake's car, and then abruptly around, and headed toward the elevator that would take her inside the building. His gaze focused on the daggers Jake was shooting his way. Ignoring Jake, Eric had to force his feet to move and complete his journey to his car.
As he drove home, Eric's mind lingered on the enticing sight of his co-worker in that silky blue dress that had outlined each curve perfectly and set his senses aflame in a matter of moments. He'd never seen her look more beautiful, breathtaking, seductive…the adjectives went on. Take your pick. As those few minutes rewound themselves in his head, he saw her reaction to him as if for the first time. He'd been so preoccupied by trying to not show how he felt on the outside, he hadn't even noticed how she'd responded to his gaze. Eric remembered the pulse beating rapidly against the thin sensitive skin of the slender column that was her neck, the light flush that swept across her chest, slowly traveling north up her throat and into her face where it culminated in a sight that still took his breath away, even now, when Calligh was no longer in sight. Her eyes had appeared luminous, a hint of something—desire maybe?—in their depths. Her nipples had beaded against the silky dress, evidence that she was not unaffected by him, by his regard. Desire was already evidenced by the time his gaze had drifted back to her eyes. It had to be something more. But what?
Calleigh recovered her credentials as briskly as she could and exited the building as quickly as her still frazzled nerves would allow. Walking back through the parking garage to Jake's car proved slower-going than going into the department. She was dragging her feet and she knew why. She needed some time to analyze the expression on Eric's face, the flash of desire, unexpectedly identified and her uncomfortably sensitive reaction to that longing. Her body hadn't responded so quickly, instantly, since before. As bad as it sounded in her head, not even Jake's most ardent attentions had produced such an instantaneous response. Usually, it took a few minutes for the spark that ran between them to ignite. This—it hadn't happened once since he got out of the hospital and now suddenly there was this sexual tension zipping around them, complicating a relationship that had been so simple before. Not so simple now, is it? And if you were truthful with yourself, you'd admit it hadn't been simple for a long time.
When Eric got home, he walked through his condo into his bedroom, stripping off work clothes as he went. It was Friday night and he could use a drink or two. Maybe meet somebody. His stomach clenched in protest but Eric ignored it. He was a single man, hadn't had sex in months, he could use a little bit of fun. His stomach and now his heart tightened, rejecting the thought of touching another woman. Where did that come from? He hadn't been dating anyone before the shooting and he'd only tried once after to test the waters. That had ended in disaster.
A frown creased his forehead for a brief moment as he contemplated that thought. He deserved a night out. He'd been cooped up for too long and his body needed a stretch. Even if the night only brought liquor and dancing, Eric found himself agreeing it was a good idea, justified it to his heart, which definitely did not want to troll the clubs for a body when he had someone waiting for him at home. Christ, he had to stop thinking like that. Calleigh wasn't his to have. She never was. And that kind of thinking could lead to problems at work as well as personally. That was the last thing he wanted. Regardless of what kind of relationship he wished he had with her, Eric did not want to lose her friendship or have it strained and awkward between them. He winced. Even now it was going to be awkward come tomorrow morning, assuming they did what they'd done so many times before – sweep it under the rug and pretend the lump wasn't there. They'd done that with Hagan's suicide, Speed's death, etc. So many instances where one or the other had needed to talk, get their emotions out in the open and begin to heal but hadn't.
The desire Eric had felt in those moments, the electricity that had arced unseen between them, had not abated and he suspected it wouldn't for some time. Even if Calleigh were to pretend tomorrow nothing had changed, Eric knew she would be unable to deny what had lingered in the space between them tonight for long. That knowledge would manifest itself unwittingly, by word or look, or deed. And eventually, it would have to be addressed.
In the meantime, Eric needed to get out of the condo and get to downtown. If he hadn't needed a drink before, he definitely did now. Seeing Calleigh like that tonight was a sucker punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of him and he needed to regain some semblance of control over his nerves as well as enjoy the night as he originally planned.
With a night of supposed frivolity in mind, Eric chose a light blue collared shirt, something he could have worn at work, a pair of charcoal gray slacks that were soft to the touch and a light sports jacket he hadn't worn since before the shooting. And if he picked them out with Calleigh in mind, Eric justified it by telling himself it was highly unlikely he'd run into her tonight.
***
The ride over to the restaurant and bar was quiet. Calleigh was lost in her own thoughts and trying to appear as if she hadn't been affected by the way Eric had looked at her. As if he hadn't wanted to eat her alive. She had to suppress an involuntary shiver at the image and Jake noticed. Until then he had been conspicuously silent, since the parking garage, and Calleigh just knew he had seen something. She was also suspicious that he was the source of the honk that had quelled the moment between the two of them. Having noticed the slight tremble, Jake glanced at her. "So, what did Delko want?"
He was studiously ignoring, either by genuine lack of knowledge or choosing to consciously ignore, those moments between Calleigh and Eric. The fat elephant in the room was beginning to trumpet and Jake appeared quite content to pretend it wasn't there. If he was going to let it go, then she would too. "Nothing, just wanted to wish me a good night," she lied. There hadn't been much verbal communication. Instead, body language and their eyes had done the talking. They'd practically mentally undressed each other! She didn't want to get into a fight and apparently neither did he, as Jake didn't push it.
Finally, they arrived at the restaurant, Shooters Bar and Grill, and a small fist clenched in Calleigh's stomach. She hadn't been here since before. He'd taken her there for a night of dinner and dancing, as the bar was known to host some incredible local talent. That had been their first date, which had culminated in a night of intense passion and pleasure for the both of them. Calleigh had told herself before agreeing to the date to take things slowly. She'd not been out in a while and hadn't had a steady boyfriend in years. But something about him that night…it wasn't planned, not by a long shot, but looking back on it now, she couldn't have stopped him. Because she hadn't wanted to stop.
Calleigh counseled herself internally and admonished to pay attention tonight and not let old ghosts, no matter how hot and delicious, ruin a perfectly good night. With that in mind, Calleigh threw herself into the scene. She and Jake were seated in a corner booth of the old industrial building, the exposed brick beside and behind her back and the low lighting hanging from the thirty-foot ceiling above. The booth was curved and comfortable, providing a sense of privacy in such a popular and crowded venue. The waiter, Michael, brought the menus and took their orders for drinks. Predictably Jake ordered two Jack and Cokes and as usual Calleigh asked for ice water and a French martini. She loved the fruity drink, but sometimes it was hard to find a bartender who knew how to make it just right. That wasn't the case here as Calleigh looked up briefly to see their waiter giving the bartender the order. The woman at the bar glanced up and squinted into the low lighting at their table in the corner. She nodded her head in acknowledgment. Michele had been bartending for over ten years, most of it at that restaurant, had an incredible memory, and of course she would remember Calleigh. Or maybe she remembered who Calleigh had been with that night.
Either way, when their waiter returned with the drinks, Calleigh took a sip of the martini and sighed in pleasure. Perfect. "What can I get for you tonight?" Michael asked.
"I'll have the lemon chicken with garlic mashed potatoes and asparagus," Calleigh ordered. Jake asked for the Delmonico steak, medium, with roasted potatoes and the vegetable medley. The time between appetizers and dinner passed with light conversation, nothing important really, a few comments about certain cases. Even so, Calleigh's shoulders started to tighten up, the muscles bunching in places. They were talking about everything but what really mattered. She could see the questions and suspicions in his eyes, but they were never voiced. Calleigh couldn't take it anymore. They had to get whatever was on his mind out in the open. Even if they were in a restaurant. "Just ask what's on your mind, Jake," she said abruptly.
"Do you really want to have this conversation here?" he asked, motioning around.
"If it means you'll quit shooting daggers at me with your eyes, then yes," she replied.
"Fine. What's going on between you and Delko? Are you seeing him?" Jake asked.
"No. We're friends, just friends. We're not seeing each other behind your back," she fidgeted slightly.
"Then what was with earlier? He was all over you. And you didn't look like you were fighting much to get away," Jake commented.
Calleigh protested. "We weren't all over each other. We were talking."
"He was undressing you with his eyes, Calleigh. I'd say that's something a friend wouldn't do," Jake contested. "You weren't much better. I didn't see you moving away. You were in a trance. I had to finally honk the horn to get you to move." It wasn't anything they'd said or even done. Something had been in their eyes, something he didn't want to see and hoped Calleigh would negate.
Calleigh knew Jake honked that horn. It had been a mixed blessing. Because if he hadn't… "Don't worry about me, Jake. Eric is a friend, but that's all," she said, grasping his hand in reassurance. She had to ignore the painful squeeze her heart did as she said those words.
After dinner, amazingly, Jake still wanted to go dancing. He picked a nearby club called Skyy and they entered the crowded, smoke-filled building. Skyy was a nightclub that catered to the late 20s/early 30s crowd, unlike so many on the strip which were usually frequented by kids in their mid-20s and younger. Four levels split the building by type of music: hip hop/rap, Hispanic/Cuban, Rock/Alternative, and the fourth level was reserved for music by decade. Each weekend the club chose between the 70s, 80s, and 90s. Calleigh was in the mood for hip-twisting Cuban music so she and Jake made their way up to the second level. Each level was insulated and soundproofed to the outside noise so pulse-pounding music from either above or below didn't filter in and disturb the rhythms.
As screwed up and tension-filled as their relationship was right now, dancing didn't require conversation and Calleigh and Jake were both incredible dancers. Five songs in had Jake begging off to get some drinks but Calleigh wasn't done. There was a lot of energy to burn and rather than start a fight, she wanted to dance it off. Jake left her on the floor, but Calleigh wasn't without a dance partner. Several Hispanic men sambaed and salsaed with her and she lost herself in the music. Her dance partners didn't matter. The rhythm did. A slower rhythm began to drum through the room and Calleigh opened her eyes to find a most intriguing sight: Eric leading a beautiful tall blond.